


Nothing Short of Invincible

by the_crownless_queen



Series: Sapphic September 2019 [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/F, F/M, Gen, Sapphic September, Sapphic September 2019, and evil witches and wizards, but true love conquers all, mermaid!Luna, mermaid!au, princess!Ginny, royalty!au, there are curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_crownless_queen/pseuds/the_crownless_queen
Summary: Unable to have children, Arthur makes a deal with a witch. She tricks him into a payment he never intends on honoring: his firstborn daughter, once she turns eighteen.Years later, and almost eighteen, Ginny protests - but fate has its ways, and escaping the witch's plans might prove to be harder than any of them had thought.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Ginny Weasley & Weasley Family, Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom & Luna Lovegood
Series: Sapphic September 2019 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1473389
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41





	1. a deal with the devil

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a challenge on ffn - I posted it there as an OS because of it, but since it works just as well as a MC I'll post it that way here.  
> Also written for Sapphic September 2019 (very, very late), Day 26: Royal!AU.  
> I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you guys like it :)

"Are you sure there is nothing else you can do?" Arthur wants to hate himself for the way his voice breaks over the words, but more than that, he hates the world for being so unfair as to cause his wife such harm.

Molly's hand is cold in his. She's been squeezing it so tightly for the past hour that Arthur's lost most sensation in his fingers, and yet it's not relief when she lets it go when the healer shakes her head.

"I'm sorry," she says, like they're talking about some bad weather this week or running out of the queen's favorite pastry rather than their inability to ever — _ever_ — have a child.

Molly strangles out a sob, retreating on herself, and Arthur's heart bleeds out for her.

"Are you _truly_ sure there is nothing we can do? We'll try anything — poultices, potions… Even spells. _Please,"_ he begs.

Poppy Pomphrey is their last — and only — hope. She's the only healer they haven't already tried, and she came from far, far away for this.

But she only shakes her head again, her light eyes sad and apologetic. "I'm sorry," she says. "But I don't believe there is anything healing magic could do. There is nothing wrong for it to fix — I believe her majesty simply cannot bear a child. This is beyond me — it would take a miracle."

She sighs. "I'm sorry. I truly wish I could have helped you."

Arthur's heart rises in his throat, and he forces a polite smile. "Thank you anyway for trying."

Molly sniffles, but raises her head to nod. She wipes her tears, but doesn't pretend to smile. "Yes," she says, "thank you for trying. Truly." Her lips twist into something pained and she reaches out for Arthur's hand again. "We knew it was a longshot anyway."

Poppy's lips stay pursed, but she nods. "Well, in that case," she starts, her tone kind but sharp, "is there any other health issue you wished me to address?"

Molly starts to shake her head, still squeezing Arthur's hand, but she falters. "Actually," she says, licking her lips slowly, "I have been having some trouble sleeping." She looks down.

Arthur's heart rises in his throat. He hadn't known — _how_ could he not have known?

"Are you alright?" he hastens to ask his wife.

Molly looks up at him. She seems almost surprised, like she'd forgotten he was there and she limply lets go of his hand to pick at the hem of the light cotton gown the nurse had requested she wear for this examination.

"I'm fine, Arthur," she replies with a weak but real smile. "It's just been… hard, you know. Considering… everything." She waves at her own body and gives a wry chuckle.

Arthur bends down to his knees until he's face to face with her. "Hey. There is nothing wrong with you, Molly. Nothing. You are still the best woman — the best person — I know. I am proud to call you my queen, and I am beyond glad you've allowed me to love you."

Molly's cheeks darken to the color of her hair — a fiery red that could rival any sunset. "I love you too," she whispers back, voice choked up as she blinks back tears.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell," she says. "I did not wish to worry you — you've had enough on your hands with the kingdom."

Arthur shakes his head, and bends down to press a kiss to Molly's hands. "No kingdom is worth you."

Molly huffs a short laugh, mirth slowly chasing away the grief in her eyes — not entirely, of course, but enough to ease Arthur's own agony.

"That's very sweet of you to say," she replies, "but we shouldn't weather a war right now because you were too worried about me. Please, let me handle this. It is only a small matter, compared to…" Here, she falters, before shaking her head and collecting herself.

"Let me handle this," she repeats. "I'm sure Poppy will have me right as rain in no time, besides. She's a very competent healer."

"I am that," Poppy replies, stepping forward.

Arthur hadn't noticed her stepping back, but he nods at her gratefully for giving him and Molly this time to talk.

She nods back, and starts asking questions. "Now, would you say you have more of an issue falling asleep, or staying asleep? What kind of dreams have you been experiencing? Have you felt too warm or —"

Arthur doesn't mean to, but he tunes them out, his knees going numb on the cold stone floor as he slowly, rhythmically runs small circles on Molly's thigh with his thumb.

There has to be something else they can do, he thinks. Something they haven't tried yet.

This can't be the end of it — he and Molly are the perfect couple. They are so happy, so in love, and they _want_ this. To have small red-haired children running through the castle, to hear the patter of small feet echoing through their rooms…

That is their dream. It cannot be doomed to never come true.

It simply cannot.

* * *

"— _thur?_ Your Majesty?"

Remus's voice jerks Arthur's mind into focus, and he shakes his head to find himself sitting in the throne room.

Right. After concluding Poppy's visit, Molly had retreated to their quarters, asking for some time alone, and Arthur had come here to…

Well, he supposes he had come to ruminate some more.

Sighing, he turns to his younger friend — Remus Lupin, an envoy from a nearby and friendly kingdom he had met some time ago and always got on well with — and pastes on a smile.

"How can I help you, Remus?"

Remus shuffles his feet and bites his lips. "I was going to ask you… Well, it can wait." He frowns. "Are you alright? I know you and the queen — Molly, sorry — were supposed to meet with another healer today?"

But Arthur's silence must be all the answer Remus needs, because a shadow crosses over his face and he swallows. "Oh," he says.

"Yeah, oh," Arthur echoes, laughing mirthlessly.

"I'm guessing it was bad news, then?"

"There was nothing she could do." Arthur swallows past the hard lump in his throat, suddenly desperately wishing he had some alcohol he could imbibe until the world made sense again. "There was nothing anyone could do."

"I'm so sorry."

Arthur shrugs, looking away from the sympathy shining in Remus' golden-brown eyes. "It is what it is, I guess. I just hoped Poppy would know _something,_ have some way to help."

"There's really nothing?" Remus asks, sounding surprised.

"No." Arthur shakes his head. He gives a wry chuckle. "It's like we're cursed," he says, and then, remembering who he's talking to, he winces, hastening to apologize. "Gods, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…"

But Remus shakes his head with a self-deprecating smile of his own. "I know you didn't. It's fine. I've… grown used to my curse, I guess you could say. My friends… My friends have helped me with that. I only wish I could help you with this too."

"Well, unless you know some miraculous way to allow Molly and I to have children, I think I'll just settle for your company."

He means it as a joke, of course he does — but Remus takes a second too long to reply, and Arthur's heart aches with a treacherous pang of hope.

"You know something," he breathes, hands shaking already.

Remus shakes his head. "No — I —"

" _Please."_

"It's a bad idea," Remus replies after a beat, biting on his lower lip. "And barely a rumor at that — a fishwives' tale. And the things I've heard… This might cost you more than you are willing to give."

"But it could work?" Arthur barely dares to hope — after so long trying, after so many healers and witches consulted, it is so very hard to hope — and yet…

Remus hesitates before nodding. "Yes," he says. "It could work. But listen, Arthur, I wouldn't recommend it. I've only heard of it because of my curse, and when I told James and Lily, they…" He trails off and shakes his head. "To put it simply, I've decided I'd rather weather the curse than tempt the fates."

"But it could work," Arthur repeats, his heart already soaring. "It could work."

And then, desperation clawing at his chest, he orders, "Tell me everything."

* * *

Three days after his conversation with Remus, and one after his friend returned to his home kingdom, the moon doesn't rise.

Heart rising in his throat, Arthur slips away from his bed, leaving a kiss on his wife's brow as a parting gift.

He hasn't told her about Remus's solution. He hasn't dared to, not when it might still fail.

He'll tell her if — _when_ it does, though.

Arthur hasn't felt the need to sneak through his own castle since he was a child, when he was trying to avoid his parents and the guards to go on adventures in the middle of the night, but the steps come back to him naturally.

The torches burn slowly as he ventures deeper into the castle, toward the second inner courtyard.

It is his wife's favorite, and even now, at night, Arthur has to pause to inhale the sweet, fresh scent of nature. It's different from during the day, less cloying, but for a second, Arthur just smiles and turns to his right, where Molly's favorite bench rests.

He half-expects her to be sitting there, ready to berate him for such a foolish ploy, but the bench is empty and the only sounds he can hear are the wind ruffling the grass and the water trickling inside the fountain.

That fountain is why he's there — it's a massive, ancient thing, ornate with carvings and old gods nobody believes in anymore.

Any water source would work, according to Remus, but this one came to Arthur's mind first. It _called_ to him — Arthur has to believe this is a sign.

He approaches it slowly, with only dim starlight to illuminate his way.

 _The story goes,_ Remus's voice echoes in his head, _that if you truly need it, you can ask the sea witch for help. On the darkest of nights, if you toss gold in the water and whisper her name, she'll come to you — and grant you your request._

 _But that's not always a good thing._ Remus had shivered then, and so Arthur does now, as he slips a golden coin from his pocket.

It is cool in his hand, and Arthur clenches it tightly for a long moment as he contemplates the water. There is barely enough light to see his own reflection, but what Arthur does see is a desperate man.

He hesitates for a breath, and then he raises his hand.

"We need this," he whispers to himself, and he takes a deep, steadying breath, stepping as close as he can to the fountain.

His tibias hit stone, and he stops.

"Sea witch," he starts, licking his lips nervously, "I would ask for a boon. My wife and I… We desire children. Anything… Anything I have to give would be yours in return for this gift," he says, and after another deep breath, he turns over his fist, and lets the golden coin fall.

It slips through the water soundlessly, but for a single, crushing instant, Arthur is sure it has failed.

 _Of course it failed,_ he starts to think, bitter and angry at himself. _Of course it did, it was never going to work, it —_

But then Arthur blinks back his angry tears, and a woman stands before him, perched on the sculpture at the center of the fountain.

She is grinning, her teeth gleaming white in the darkness. Her hair is as pale as the absent moon, and around her neck, an old silver medallion sparkles.

"You called for me?" she asks, and Arthur swallows back a scream as he stumbles backward.

"Y-yes," he answers, gathering himself up quickly. "I did. I desire —"

"A boon, yes. Children." Somehow, her grin seems to widen. "I heard you."

Arthur's voice shakes as hard as his legs. "And will you grant it?"

"Maybe," the witch replies. "It depends. What will you give me if I do?"

" _Anything."_

The witch laughs. It makes Arthur's heart race with fear — it isn't a human sound. "What if I asked for —"

" _Anything,"_ he repeats.

She laughs again, but nods. "Well, if it's _anything…_ I do believe we have a deal."

Arthur almost collapses in relief, only catching himself on the fountain in extremis.

"All you need to do," the witch says, dipping her hand into a water that suddenly glows an ominous green and twirling her fingers until she's suddenly holding an intricate glass vial filled with the unearthly liquid, "is make your wife drink this."

"And then we'll be able to have children?"

"And then you'll be able to have children," the witch agrees. As she hands him the vial, their hands brush together, and Arthur can't hold back a shiver.

The witch's hand feels like something dead — freezing and stiff, for all that her fingers still move.

He clutches the vial to his chest. "Thank you," he breathes, but the words catch in his throat as the witch's smile sharpens, her medallion glinting with unnatural light.

"Don't thank me yet, little king," she says mirthfully. "I haven't told you my price yet."

"And I've told you," Arthur replies, in the sharp voice he uses in court, "that you could have anything you asked for."

The witch laughs, that horrible sound like a thousand discordant notes. "I know. And that's why I want your firstborn daughter — on her eighteenth birthday, she will be mine."

Arthur falls back, horrified. "That wasn't —" he starts, but the witch just melts back into the water, the vial Arthur is still clutching to his chest the only proof any of this was ever real "— part of our deal!"

" _Come back!"_ he shouts, heart racing in his chest. " _Witch!_ Come back, this wasn't part of our deal!"

But it was — it was, because Arthur had foolishly promised her everything, and no amount of gold tossed into the fountain brings the witch back.

* * *

Arthur shamefully doesn't tell Molly where he got the potion from.

"Remus recommended it," he tells her over breakfast, the water still glowing green in its bottle. "He said it could help."

It's not really a lie, he tells himself. Remus was the one who told him about the witch, after all.

"I don't know," Molly says, eyeing the potion with suspicion. "I think… I think I'm tired of trying. I can't take the hope anymore, Arthur. Every time we try something new and it doesn't work, it kills me a little."

"I know," Arthur replies, his throat tied. "It kills me too. But this is the last thing. The last thing we will try. If it doesn't work…" He swallows and fakes a smile as he laces his fingers with Molly, squeezing her hand softly. "If it doesn't work, we can always adopt — tour the kingdom's orphanages."

Molly huffs out a wet laugh. "One last time?"

"One last time."

She drinks the potion.

"What does it taste like?" Arthur asks anxiously.

Molly shrugs, smacking her lips thoughtfully. "Water, mostly. Something else, too, but I don't have a name for it."

They don't talk about it more than that, and two months later, Molly is pregnant.

It's a boy, and Arthur breathes a sigh of relief.

They name him Bill, and Arthur falls in love the instant they place him into his arms.

After Bill comes Charlie, and after Charlie Percy, then the twins Fred and George, and finally Ron.

 _Maybe,_ Arthur starts to think as he watches his sons grow up, _maybe I'll never have to pay the price._

And then, ten years later, Molly gets pregnant again.

And this time, it's a girl, and Arthur knows he's run out of time, and excuses.

* * *

Ginny is so small and light in his arms. She feels lighter than any of her brothers ever were, and Arthur loves her as much as he does them.

Molly watches them with a happy, tired grin, and Arthur's heart twists in his chest.

He puts Ginny down in the small bassinet next to the bed, and sits down by Molly's legs.

"I have something to tell you," he says, casting his eyes down to the colorful plaid laid over her legs — a gift from Bill and Charlie for Ron's birth.

"If you hate her name," Molly starts, her eyes crinkling up with laughter, "you can just —"

" _Molly,"_ Arthur says, looking up at her, and stops, his eyes falling down again.

"Oh," Molly says, "this is serious."

Arthur laughs mirthlessly. "Yes, yes it is. Gods, I'm so sorry, I should have told you this years ago, but I… I let myself forget — _no,_ I fooled myself into thinking I could forget."

"Arthur, what is it? You're starting to scare me," Molly says, her voice shaking.

Arthur doesn't need to look at her to know the face she's making — to see her eyes widen with worry, to see her jaw tighten.

He swallows. "Do you remember that potion I gave you to drink?"

Molly startles. "The one that worked?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "Of course I do," she says, her voice fond and loving — more loving than he deserves. "Arthur, what is it?"

"I got it from a witch," Arthur confesses.

"I had kind of guessed that," Molly retorts, crossing her arms. "Come on, Arthur, you know you can tell me anything."

"I had to give her something in exchange. To promise her something."

He hears her swallow. "Arthur… What did you promise her?"

"You have to understand," Arthur continues, desperate to get the words out, "I never thought — she never said… I didn't think she would ask for _that._ I thought maybe gold, or some rare artefact, or a favor."

" _Arthur, what did she want?"_

Unbidden, Arthur's eyes drift to their daughter, so small wrapped in her white towel, so new to this world and so loved already.

"She wanted our firstborn daughter," he says, and the words _kill_ something inside of him.

" _Ginny?"_

"When she turns eighteen," Arthur nods, the words heavy as lead in his mouth. Already, he can see horror starting to overshadow the joy in Molly's eyes, can see the fear taking root there.

"But you told her no, didn't you? Arthur, you told her no, right?" Molly's tone is so urgent and scared Arthur wishes more than anything he could lie to her still.

"I tried," he replies, his voice barely higher than a whisper. "Gods know I tried, but she vanished, and she hasn't been seen since. She hasn't answered my summons, hasn't accepted any alternative."

When he looks up, Molly's hands are clenched in her sheets. "So what now, we just raise her up and give her up to some witch when she turns eighteen? Is that what we're supposed to do? Our baby girl?" She sobs.

Arthur shakes his head, bending almost in two in his haste to take her hand in his. "No, no, I swear to you, we will never give her up. I'll die before it comes to that — I'll give myself up in her place. She'll have to accept that, and let Ginny go free."

Molly lets out a harsh sound, half-laugh, half-sob. "So is this it then? I either lose her, or I lose you?"

"Molly…" Arthur starts, too sorry for words.

But Molly's face hardens, and she rips her hand out of his grasp. " _Leave,"_ she bites out, casting her eyes away.

"I'm sorry, Molly. I'm so sorry."

" _Leave, I don't want to see you!"_

She screams it, and his heart heavier than it's ever been, Arthur leaves.

He collapses against her door, legs suddenly too weak to hold him up.

"Oh gods, what have I done?" he asks the silence, bitter tears welling up in his eyes, so very grateful they'd thought to keep the children away for the birth.

"What have I done," he repeats, and on the other side of the door, Molly sobs.

(Later, they'll speak again.

Later, Molly will say, "There's got to be something we can do."

She will have fire in her eyes, her lips drawn out into an angry line, and Arthur will remember all the reasons he fell in love with her.

And he'll agree to look for a solution with her.)


	2. growing up

For the most part, Ginny's childhood isn't very different from that of her brothers. At least, she doesn't think so.

Like them, she grows up in her parents' castle, running through the corridors and between servants and court members who indulgently smile at her as she passes them by.

She makes up adventures for them to go on, bullies Bill — her oldest brother and the only one always willing to humor her — into playing the monster she has to rescue the princesses from, and the twins into teaching her all the best ways to climb the castle walls once her brother joins the royal navy and leaves.

She learns to swim in the private cove under the castle, and teaches herself how to hold her breath so she can dive beneath the waves to dig the best shells out of the sand.

It's a lot of fun, even if her parents keep trying to keep her far, far away from the water, and kick up a fuss whenever they catch her going to the beach alone.

(She's simply learned not to tell anyone, even if it means keeping her collection secret.)

Less fun are the princess lessons her mother insists she has, stuffing her in pretty dresses Ginny always wants to mess up.

"I don't see why I have to do this," she mutters mulishly, fourteen and wishing she could be outside instead of smiling and nodding at foreign dignitaries, patting down the taffeta of her skirts.

Her mother shoots her a sharp glare and Ginny pastes on a wide smile that falls off her face the instant her mother turns away.

"It makes your mother happy." Her father's hand falls on her shoulder, startling her. "And this _is_ part of your duties as a member of our family."

"But why me?" Ginny whines, looking sideways at her father. "Why can't you make one of the boys do it?"

They're higher up the line of succession than she is, after all — if anyone should have to deal with all this pomp and ceremony it should be them.

But Arthur only chuckles fondly. "They've done their share, don't worry. Besides, they have their own duties to keep them busy."

 _Yes,_ Ginny thinks jealously, _like training to join their navy. Something she cannot do — and not even because she is a woman, because their navy_ has _women,_ _but because it isn't_ safe.

"I don't see why I can't —"

" _Ginny,"_ Molly interrupts, hissing through her teeth, "pay attention, please."

"Yes, mother." Ginny sighs, shooting a pleading look toward her father, who only laughs again and shakes his head, pressing a kiss atop her head before moving to sit next to his wife.

The meeting drags on. It's mind-numbingly boring, even if Ginny does her best to try to see why she should care that Lord A is unhappy with Lord B — fishing disputes — and why Lady X feels that her husband has been mishandling their affairs and she should be allowed to divorce him — she's actually cheating on him, Ginny knows, and for maybe five minutes things are interesting when she whispers this in her mother's ears.

But finally — _finally_ — it ends, and the last supplicant exits the room, leaving only Ginny and her parents behind.

Ginny heaves the greatest sigh she can, and collapses down in her chair as ungracefully as she can.

" _Ginny,"_ Molly starts to reprimand, but her husband's hand on her forearm stops her.

"Come on, Molly," he says, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiles fondly, "let her relax. She did very well."

"She did, yes," Molly agrees, mollified. "You did great, sweetie," she adds, turning to Ginny.

"Thanks, mum," Ginny replies, unable to stop herself from smiling back brightly as pride warms her chest. She eyes the open door with envy. "Can I go now? Please?"

It's not too late that she can't catch the last bit of the market in the nearby town if she hurries, after all.

She expects a yes — it's almost always a yes from her parents after these meetings — but this once, they pause and exchange a long look.

"Well, tell her," Arthur says, grinning. "It was your idea."

Ginny's heart skips a beat, torn between excitement and anxiety. "What is it?"

"Sweetie…" her mother starts. "Your father and I, we've decided to —"

"Oh gods, you're not actually going to find me a husband, are you? I thought Fred and George were joking about that!" Ginny sputters out, half-rising out of her seat.

"What? No, of course not," her mother hastens to reply. "You know we'd never — why, when I get my hands on these two…" She grits her teeth angrily.

"I'll talk to them," Arthur assures her, his jaw clenched. "But no, Ginny, this isn't about that. Not at all."

"Oh, good. What is this about then?" Ginny asks, slowly sitting back down.

Her mother smiles. "Well, as I was saying, it's your birthday next week, and your father and I, we were thinking that at fifteen, you would be old enough to start sailing lessons — not," she hastens to add, "to join the navy or anything, but as you and your father have pointed out to me, relentlessly, sailing is part of our family's history, and I wouldn't want to deny you that."

Ginny's heart stops and restarts. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Arthur replies, smiling. "You wouldn't start until after your birthday, obviously, but since you did so well lately, your mother and I agreed she should tell you early."

"I… I don't even know what to say — just, _thank you!_ You're the best!"

Her parents laugh. "You're welcome," Molly says, discreetly wiping happy tears from her eyes.

"Just try not to capsize the boat on your first lesson, huh?" Arthur jokes, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Dad! Come on, I'm not _Ron!"_ Ginny protests, but soon she's laughing too.

* * *

Besides her siblings, Ginny really only has two friends.

The first one is Harry. She's known him her whole life, too — he's been her parents' ward since shortly after she was born, when his parents' kingdom fell to some kind of evil wizard who tried to murder him and did murder his parents.

It would be more of a concern to them, really, except that Voldemort promptly looked up their borders and hasn't let anyone in — nor out — since. For all anyone knows, he's dead too, and the kingdom prospers.

(Not that Ginny thinks that. She's had enough history lessons to know that life rarely is that easy, or that simple.)

Of course, Harry is more Ron's friend than hers, but he was always more willing than her brother to let her join in their make-believe games of reconquering his kingdom, and he always let her have the last bites of her favorite dishes.

When she'd been eleven, Ginny had spent an embarrassing six months head-over-heels in love with him, right up until she'd spied on him training with the weapons master, and seen him trip over his own feet and only narrowly avoiding skewering himself over his own sword.

They haven't been as close lately, but he's still the first person she wants to tell her news to — _sailing._ She'll finally be able to learn sailing.

It's one step closer to her dream of sailing away on adventures like most of her brothers, and Ginny can't wait for the lessons to start.

She finds him, as she usually does, perched on the windowsill of their highest tower.

He'd once confessed to her that from there, he could almost see the borders of his lost kingdom. Ginny had tried to see what he saw and failed, but she'd lied. If he'd realized, he hadn't mentioned it, and he certainly hadn't brought it up since.

"You'll never guess what happened," she starts, half-out of breath from all the stairs and not caring.

"Weren't you going to go to the market?"

Maturely, Ginny sticks out her tongue at him. "Scoot over," she says, plopping down next to him.

"Be careful," he hisses, reaching out to steady her when she leans forward a little too much — just enough to get her heart truly racing.

He sighs but shuffles to the left, leaving her more room to sit. "Don't you have brothers you can bother with this?" he mutters.

Ginny laughs and bumps their shoulders together. "Ron has, in what is perhaps the only wise decision he's ever made, decided to flee the castle when I have to help our parents hold court. I'm surprised he didn't take you with him."

Harry shrugs. "I think he wanted to have a date with Hermione," he states, bewildered.

"Ah, I see." Ginny laughs. "And does Hermione know this is to be a date?"

Harry's look of bewilderment only increases. "How would I know?"

Ginny shakes her head, her laughter slowly dying down. "I would pity him, but really, he brought this on himself."

Hermione is Ginny's second friend. Her parents are healers, assigned to the _Burrow_ , the navy's fastest ship, and they'd met some years ago when Ginny had sneaked up onboard in a doomed attempt to trick the navy into accepting her.

It hadn't worked, obviously — Ginny had somehow overlooked the crucial detail of her being very much _under_ the age of recruitment — but Hermione, having recognized the princess, and knowing of her propensity for mischief, had decided to supervise.

Hermione had grown up on ships and was thus a fountain of knowledge about anything marine-related (and land, forest or sky-related, since she didn't believe in restricting knowledge) and Ginny had had so much fun quizzing her that she had almost missed her curfew.

Hermione had been the first friend Ginny had made for herself, and to this day, she's still the only one who knows just how much Ginny _yearns_ to leave her sheltered palace life.

Of course, she had had to introduce the older girl to her family after a while — her siblings had started to teaser her about having _a crush,_ and her parents had worried — and though sparks had flown at first, Ron, Harry and Hermione had grown to become very close friends.

More so even in her brother's case, which had lead to some… heated arguments recently, when Hermione had still been dating that foreign army officer.

She's brought back to the present as Harry hum in agreement.

"Anyway," he says, shifting to look at her, "what did you want to tell me?"

Ginny's grin returns full force. "Oh, that! Right! Mum and Dad have agreed to get me sailing lessons for my birthday next week!"

Harry's green eyes widen in surprise. "Really? That's great news, Ginny. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you!" She's still so overjoyed that when she tackles him into a hug, she almost pulls them over the edge of the tower — only Harry's quick reflexes saves them.

"Whoops." She laughs. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Harry replies, breathless as he pulls them back to a sitting position. "Your parents would kill me."

Ginny shakes her head, laughing. "Please, they love you too much. You're their favorite."

Harry's cheeks darken, and he shakes his head. "I'm sure it's not true," he mutters, but it's a weak protest.

Ginny snorts and knocks their shoulders together. "I know."

They stay silent for a while longer, watching the sun slowly drift down. From this side of the tower, they can barely see the sea, glittering like diamonds on the far right, but they can see the vast expanse of the countryside, stretching out as far as the eye can see.

Slowly but steadily, Ginny's heart rate returns to something normal, and she finds herself following Harry's drifting gaze. It's not the first time it happens — not even the hundredth, really — but some part of her is still surprised by it.

"Do you ever think about your kingdom?" she finds herself asking.

"Not really," Harry confesses quietly, drawing his knees up to his chest and shifting the rest his back against the side of the window. His eyes don't leave that patch of land Ginny knows is the most they can see of the Potter's land — Hogwarts, it was called, such a peculiar name — from up there.

"I can't ever go there, anyway, so why should I?" Nobody could, of course, not since the Rebellion. Still, it is so clearly a lie that Ginny wishes she could tell him otherwise — tell him that of course he could go, that his parents were still alive and waiting for him and that his stay with them was temporary.

But she can say none of that.

"Besides," Harry continues, unaware of Ginny's inner turmoil, "you're my family now."

"And don't you forget it!" Ginny jokes.

Harry smiles back, and finally drags his eyes back to _this_ land — back to the life he has. "I won't."

He looks very handsome like this, the sun warming his dark skin and revealing the copper sparks in his black hair, and Ginny almost wishes she could love him.

They would make a cute couple, she thinks, as she sometimes does, but they had kissed once already, almost a year ago, tipsy on stolen wine and dumb choices, and Ginny had felt nothing.

It had just been… nice. Ginny doesn't want _nice,_ she wants _extraordinary._

Besides, as Harry's just said, they're family. that's more important.

* * *

Ginny's sixteenth birthday comes and goes, and so does her seventeenth.

She learns to sail — to her instructors" surprise and pride, she takes to it very quickly.

"It's almost like she's done it before," one of them even says, and Ginny smiles outwardly even as inside, she laughs.

She never really managed to practice, of course, but years of friendship with Hermione and growing up around siblings who _almost all_ wanted to sail too had taught her a lot of things.

Every lesson reinforces her yearning though, the _call_ she feels for the ocean, for adventure.

As a child, she'd used to come to the harbor and watch the ships, dreaming about joining or being a pirate, wild and free and hunting for magical treasures.

She doesn't want to be a pirate anymore, but she wants to serve her kingdom like this, wants to defend them on the high seas, bring back foreign riches like her brothers do.

But her parents still don't want her to — it's like they're scared of sending her out to sea. If she stays in the harbor, if the ship doesn't sail out of sight, they can bear it, but they've forbidden her to go further.

And a month before her eighteenth birthday, she finds out why.

* * *

In retrospect, Ginny will wonder why she never suspected a thing. It all explains so much — her parents' behavior toward her, their fear of her going out to sea alone, the foreign dignitaries who came so often and traded in oddly specific knowledge regarding curses…

She'd always known they were cautious, but she'd always figured it was because of _Harry,_ with his kingdom and family lost to violent rebellion and dark magic, not _her._

She hadn't expected this — her father making a deal with a sea witch, swearing his firstborn daughter's life to her in return for what he wanted.

 _Her_ life.

"But you fixed it, right?" she finds herself asking, the words like shards of glass in her mouth. "You found a way not to give her what she wanted, right? I'm still here, aren't I?"

She expects them to say _yes, of course, dear._ She expects her mother to draw her into one of her limb-crushing hugs, almost expects the twins to start laughing, saying " _Got you!"_ because this had to be a joke.

But the twins aren't laughing. Nobody is — Bill, her favorite brother, is looking at her sadly, _shamefully._

Gods, they're all looking at her like that — even Ron, who shuffles his feet together and doesn't dare to meet her eyes.

"Did you… You all knew?" She means it as a question, but it comes out as an accusation.

Because that's what it is, Ginny realizes, anger catching alight in her chest.

Her mother reaches out to her — to pull her into one of her hugs, no doubt, like _that_ could make anything better — and Ginny jerks out of her way.

" _No,"_ she hisses, her voice as cold as ice. "You don't get to, you don't get to do this. You don't get to tell me that I'm some, some _sacrifice_ because you couldn't deal with being unable to have kids twenty years ago and then act like _you_ can comfort me!" Her voice catches and her vision blurs. She tastes salt on her lips.

" _Why haven't you fixed this?"_

Her father takes a step forward. "I'm so sorry. We've tried — gods, we've tried everything. But nothing—" his voice breaks "Nothing that will work."

He reaches toward her, to pull her into his embrace like he always had before when she'd been scared or angry or sad.

It had always comforted her before. Now it makes her sick.

"Stay away from me!" She's proud of herself for not screaming, for the way her voice remains steady even if her hands are not.

"You _knew."_ She sobs. "You all knew, and you didn't tell me."

"Don't blame your brothers, sweetie," her mother starts, and just like that Ginny's had enough.

She whirls around, slams the door behind her and runs all the way to her rooms.

(She doesn't hear her family argue after that — the twins and Bill arguing they should have told her, Ron and Percy arguing back it wouldn't have helped, that at least this way she grew up _happy,_ Charlie trying to comfort their crying mother as his father tried and failed to reassure them that Ginny would be fine, that he had a _plan._

"Giving yourself up in her place isn't much of a plan," Bill replies, his eyes dark and red-rimmed.

"It's all I have left," Arthur counters. "This is my mistake, I should be the one to pay for it."

' _I either lose her, or I lose you?'_ Molly had asked him almost eighteen years ago — it looked like they would have to find out.)

* * *

Somebody knocks on the door.

" _Ginny, come on, open up the door. Please."_

They knock again, but like she has for the past two weeks, Ginny ignores it. "Go away," she whispers.

It's hard to tell who is on the other side of the door through the thick wood and even thicker stone walls, but Ginny doesn't need to look. It'll be one of her brothers, trying to apologize — Bill and Charlie — or begging her to understand why they'd kept the secret — Percy, Ron — or promising to help her get revenge on their parents through pranking — Fred and George.

She had almost opened up for them, too, but in the end, they were as culpable as everyone else, and Ginny's door had remained closed.

She knows she'll have to leave at some point, of course, have to open the door again, but the very thought of facing her family again knowing what she does is enough to cause her heart to race and her lungs to seize.

She's packed, though, in case she decides to run. If this witch comes from the sea, perhaps running inland, much as Ginny might abhor it, would save her.

She's almost climbed down her window every day since she's learned the news, but something has stopped her every time.

It's not quite hope, she doesn't think, but something about her parents' pleas to listen to them still ties her here, she thinks, for all that she never wants to listen to them again.

Another knock on the door. " _Ginny?"_

Oh. It's her father.

"Go away," Ginny spits out, suddenly finding her voice.

There is a long pause, and Ginny's eyes start to burn. She hates this — hates that she can't make up her mind between wanting him to leave and never speak again, and wanting him to stay and tell her that everything will be alright, the way he did when she was five and thought a monster lived under her bed.

" _I will,"_ her father says, voice muffled through the door. " _I will, I swear. I just… I wanted to tell you that I loved you, and that it will be alright. Everything will be alright."_

Ginny snorts and draws her knees up to her chest. Sure. That sounds likely.

" _Ginny?"_ he asks, and spitefully, Ginny doesn't reply.

She stays silent, looking away from the door and out the window, toward the wide blue expanse she might have to forever leave behind if she wants to _keep her life,_ until she hears him shuffle away.

She almost turns around, almost throws the door open, almost yells out the " _Why?"_ that's been trapped in her chest since they've upended her world, but she doesn't.

Instead, she keeps staring out the window — eventually moving to sit balanced on the windowsill. Like this, she can even see the harbor, and that's how she notices the ship.

It's the _Burrow_ , the ship her brother Bill captains now. It's as radiant as it's ever been, even from a distance.

It's hard to see from there, but the docks seem full.

The docks seem full, and the _Burrow_ is setting sail.

 _Everything will be alright,_ her father had said, and suddenly Ginny is seized with a horrible foreboding.

The door slams against the wall as she throws it open, but even as she starts running, Ginny knows that she'll too late.

She still does it. The crowd parts for their princess as she runs to the docks, toward the familiar patch of red hair that marks out her family.

"What happened?" she asks, disheveled and out of breath, and for a moment, nobody answers her.

Her mother is crying, she sees, and she's not the only one.

"He and Bill left," Percy finally tells her, his tone somehow perfectly composed. The only sign he's affected at all is in the tight lines around his eyes. They hadn't been there before. "He went to trade himself for you — you missed his farewell."

" _Percy!"_ the twins hiss accusingly in unison, but Percy just shrugs.

"What? It's true. It was beautiful." And with those words, he spins on his heels and turns around. Ron looks helplessly at the sails slowly shrinking in the distance, and then back at Ginny, before hurrying after his brother's retreating back.

"He left." Ginny doesn't realize she's spoken the words aloud until Charlie squeezes her shoulder and replies.

"He did," he says, his voice kind and unrelenting. "He wanted you to be safe."

"I… I know." Ginny's eyes burn. Her eyes find that white triangle on the horizon, steadily growing smaller, and she staggers backward until she bumps against her mother, her hand finding hers and squeezing it tightly.

"I know," she repeats, barely more than a whisper.

"But I didn't get to say goodbye."

(The very same night, once the castle falls into a mournful, dreary kind of sleep, Ginny pulls out her pack from underneath her bed, and puts her old plans into actions.

She runs.

Only she's not running _away_ like she had planned — she's running _toward_ something.

Her father had tried to give himself up for her, and he'd dragged Bill along with him — though Ginny's aware _nobody_ can really drag Bill anywhere.

Well, Ginny's the one whose life has been traded off already, and she's not letting her family take her place. She'll bring them back, and she'll save herself in the process.

After all, she's always wanted to go on a proper adventure.)


	3. the storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I know nothing about boats outside of a couple museum visits, some googling and basically pirate movies. Please excuse any and all accuracies :p  
> Hope you guys enjoy the chapter :)

Managing a ship is not quite as easy as it seems, or even as simple as her lessons had made it seem.

But then again, Ginny had never been alone in those lessons. She'd never had to try to take care of everything, from the sail to the rudder she steers the boat by.

She's lucky she thought to 'borrow' one of the smaller ships rather than the biggest ones she'd trained on, even if it makes applying her lessons harder.

Ginny welcomes the challenge, though. It helps her clear her mind, helps her focus away from her problems, from the pervasive thoughts racing through her mind.

She doesn't really know where she's going, after all. All she has is a vague idea of the _Burrow_ 's charted course, half-memorized before Percy had put it away to avoid stressing their mother, and even vaguer rumors overheard in the harbor of a sunken land, far into the ocean, where the sea witch rules.

It's not much, but it's a starting point — maybe she can even catch up with the _Burrow_ before they reach the island if this steady wind holds.

But of course, thinking it curses her. The sun is halfway up the sky when the wind starts to pick up. It only increases her speed at first, but soon enough it starts to threaten to tear her sails apart and she has to pull them up and tie them down.

It's hard, grueling work, and Ginny is so focused on it, on not losing her sails, that she misses the sun disappearing.

She doesn't miss the first drop of rain, nor the rolling thunder in the distance, growing closer.

She is drenched in minutes, and her fingers slip as she tries to tie herself to the mast after the fifth time she slips on the deck, the wood grown slick with rain under her leather boots.

"Work, please, work," she chants to herself, until finally she manages to loop the heavy rope around her chest.

Above, the thunder grows louder, and Ginny curses.

She hasn't planned for this. All she knows about storms out on the ocean is that they're dangerous — she's been to the funerals of the officers that never came back when their ship sank, and she'd overheard Bill confess to Charlie once that the time he'd been caught in a storm had been the only time he'd been sure he would die.

And right now, Ginny understands him. It feels like the world is raging at her, like it's punishing her for running, for daring to try to oppose the fate that is meant to be hers. It's like it knows, she thinks, and her hysterical laughter is drowned by the sound of waves crashing against her small ship.

The ship is too small, of course. What had been an advantage earlier, allowing her to gain speed quickly and maneuver relatively easily works against her now, leaving her at the mercy of the waves.

A stringer, bigger ship might have a chance to escape, to weather this storm. A more experienced crew would know what to do. But Ginny's knowledge, patched up from stories and books, is far from enough.

She can only hug the mast and pray her ship will hold, that the storm will pass.

Predictably, that isn't enough.

The first sign is the creaking. Loud enough to be heard even over the waves and thunder, it echoes deep in Ginny's bones and she clenches her teeth around it. It sounds nothing like the usual creaks of wood.

It sounds like somebody screaming, like something being torn apart.

The sky flashes again, so blindingly white that Ginny almost believes she will never be able to see again. Almost simultaneously, the thunder crashes down on her. It is the worst sound she's ever heard, and every single one of her bones rings with it — she stumbles away from the mast, disoriented, blinking spots out of her vision just in time to avoid its top half falling toward her, engulfed in flames.

She screams, and that's when the next wave pulls the ship under.

Ginny had been cold before. She had been wet — the rain had pelted her skin like sheets of ice, making her clothes hang heavily around her body.

All of this is nothing, however, compared to being plunged into the raging ocean, her body tossed under the waves like a ragdoll until her eyes burn from the salt and her lungs start to burn, desperately trying figure out which way is up and which way is down.

She's still trying to figure it out when the rope she'd tied around her waist yanks or up — or is it down? — expelling what little air remains in her chest violently.

Ginny breaks the surface with a gasp, paddling the water with one arm as the other tugs at the rope that is painfully digging into her stomach, her freezing fingers desperately trying to find the knot she'd spent so long on earlier.

She sobs in relief when she does find it, and then in frustration as trying to move the rope around to have it in front of her rather than in her back painfully wrenches at her arms.

She screams when she finally manages it, something guttural and primal, and abruptly goes under again.

Ginny resurfaces spitting out saltwater, but this time she has a proper hold on the knot, even if her fingers are still so cold making them cooperate seems impossible.

Her legs are burning from the effort to keep her head above the constant waves by the time she finally manages to get the last tangle out, and she sobs in relief when she pressure around her waist finally eases as the rope slips away.

She remembers too late that it must have been tied to part of the mast still — a floatable piece of wood she could really use right now.

Desperately, she casts her eyes around for more remnants of her ship, but the water is too dark and the storm is moving away — there is little light for her to see by.

She swims left, then right, but all the wood she finds are fragments barely bigger than her arms, nothing she can put anything weight on without it sinking beneath her.

All she can do, in the end, is keep swimming, and hope that changes.

Soon.

* * *

It doesn't. The moon eventually rises, and Ginny flips over to float on her back and try to conserve energy.

She has given hope on finding any remnants of her boat to lean — they've probably all sank to the bottom of the ocean by now.

She would cry, but her eyes, like her throat, are to dry for that.

"I'm sorry," she whispers instead, an apology she knows her family won't get to her.

She wishes…

(A wave splashes over her face, and Ginny kicks her feet and spits out saltwater until she can breathe again.)

She wishes she had opened that door, had told her father she loved him and that she'd come with him to face the witch, that they'd make her change her mind, agree to another price.

(Her mind wanders and her head slips beneath the water. She snorts up water and coughs until her airways are free, but it's so hard to stay awake, and even harder to stay afloat.)

She wishes she hadn't left, that she'd stayed in her mother's embrace rather than sneak out in the middle of the night on such a foolish journey.

" _You were right,"_ she would tell her, " _right when you said the sea was dangerous."_

Of course, storms hadn't been what her mother was afraid of back then, but in Ginny's mind, it makes sense right now.

The stars twinkle above her, almost mocking in their beauty and simplicity, and Ginny laughs.

Guesses she won't be meeting the sea witch after all.

(This time, when her eyes slip shut, she doesn't move, and lets her body sink. It almost feels warm, like an embrace, and Ginny is so grateful that her body has finally stopped hurting that she doesn't try to fight the darkness creeping in.

Third time's the charm, isn't it?)

* * *

Awareness has always come to Ginny slowly. Waking up is her least favorite part of the day, and she's been known to toss her pillows — and on one occasion, a book that had been lying on her bedside table — at whoever tries to wake her up before she's ready for it.

She definitely isn't ready for it now, and she groans as she tries to duck away from the light stubbornly shining at her closed eyelids.

"G'way," she mutters, flipping on her stomach and trying to wave an arm toward the source of the light.

Her arm flops into cold water with a wet _splash,_ and Ginny's eyes snap open, her heart suddenly racing.

"I'm alive," she breathes out in a gasp, forcing her screaming muscles to obey her and let her sit up.

She seems to be in some kind of underground lake — she dips a finger into the water and licks it curious — _nope,_ definitely still seawater. What she'd thought was her bed is actually dried out moss arranged in something resembling a mattress resting on coarse-looking sand.

The cave seems to be half-submerged, but its walls are illuminated by crystals pulsing with a green glow. Under the water, they distort what Ginny can see, but above it, they provide enough light for her to recognize this place as some kind of inhabited beach — if her mattress hadn't been enough indication of that already.

There are what can only be described as trinkets _everywhere._ They litter the beach, some of them mundane-looking — corals or shells that wouldn't have looked out of place in Ginny's own collection — but others are more exotic, golden and bejeweled treasures rescued from sunken ships, no doubt.

At first, they seem random, but the more Ginny looks, the more order she can see to the chaos.

There is a system at work here, and that very realization makes her heart start to race.

A system means intelligent life, means she might be able to get out of her.

And as if her thoughts had summoned it, a voice breaks the soft silence.

"Do you like it?"

Slowly, Ginny turns around.

She had been alone before, she is sure of it. She had been alone in this cave, and yet now there is another girl, perched on a smooth rock Ginny's eyes had passed right over before.

The girl is wet — indecently so, even, as whatever material her short green top is made of, it clings to her pale skin like it was painted on. She is running a hand through the lightest blond hair Ginny's ever seen, roughly combing it before squeezing the water out of it and tossing it over her shoulders.

Water still drips down her neck, and for some reason, Ginny can't stop staring until her body reminds her she has to blink.

She does and the spell is broken. "What — Where am I?"

The girl smiles. "Home. Well," she adds, tilting her head to the side with a pensive sigh, "the above part of it, anyway."

And as Ginny watches, the girl reaches down into the water, caressing it with her fingers.

She's showcasing, Ginny realizes, showing her that whatever riches are scattered on the beach, there are far more still underwater.

But Ginny doesn't — can't — care about that, because the girl's movements reveal something else, something far more interesting.

Something impossible.

A fish tail, starting below her navel, first with only a few iridescent scales but continuing down to her legs — or rather, where her legs should be.

Because this girl doesn't have legs.

Ginny chokes on air.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?" The girl's eyes widen, and she hurriedly slips into the water like she belongs there, swimming over to Ginny's side so quickly Ginny barely has enough time to scramble away when two glistening arms breach the water and push this girl up on Ginny's makeshift bed.

Ginny nods, speechless for an instant. She shakes her head, trying to gather her thoughts — and words. "You're a —"

"Mermaid, yes." She grins, revealing teeth that shine like polished pearls. "I'm Luna. It's nice to meet you properly," she says. "Conscious, I mean — you couldn't really talk back before," she adds, but somehow, Ginny doesn't think Luna's speaking to her.

"I'm Ginny," she replies, belatedly recalling enough of her manners to introduce herself. "And you —"

"Saved you?" Luna preens. Her tail flaps about in the water, and Ginny tries very hard to find it weird rather than adorable. "Also yes."

Ginny licks her dry lips, nodding. She guesses it makes as much sense as anything else — she got rescued by a genuine mermaid. Why not?

"How?" she asks, wincing when her voice cracks around the word.

"Oh, it was pretty simple," Luna replies. She's still grinning, looking very proud of herself as she eases back into the water, apparently reassured that whatever state Ginny is in, she's not about to die inopportunely. "I kissed you."

"You kissed me," Ginny repeats, blinking.

"Mmh-mmh." Luna nods. "Obviously."

" _Obviously."_

Luna frowns. "Is there something wrong with your hearing? I've heard it can happen, sometimes, when land-people spend too long underwater."

_Land-people,_ Ginny mouthes silently, before shaking her head.

"No," she denies, "my hearing's fine. I just… You kissed me?"

"Yes." Luna nods again. "It was the only way you could breathe underwater like I do. See?"

She gestures toward Ginny's face, and curious, Ginny leans over her rock and looks down at her reflection.

At first, it seems perfectly normal, and she's about to say so, when the water ripples and Ginny sees it.

There is a mark on her left cheek. A mark shaped like lips, shimmering dimly but steadily before seemingly fading back under her skin.

Stunned, Ginny raises her fingers to her skin, but the skin feels perfectly ordinary beneath her fingertips.

"We're not really supposed to do it," Luna continues, her cheeks darkening, "but when I saw you sinking I just… had to help."

Ginny finds herself smiling back. "Well, I for one am very grateful. I wouldn't have wanted my body to just, end up at the bottom of the ocean, or something."

"Oh no, the sharks would probably have eaten you first. They were quite hungry," Luna replies.

"The _sharks?!"_ Ginny shouts, knees drawn up to her chest in panic as she hurriedly casts her eyes around the room.

Luna frowns, eyeing her with her large, globulous eyes that suddenly widen with comprehension. "Oh, no, don't worry. They wouldn't dare come _here."_

Ginny snorts out a relieved laugh, though her heart doesn't stop racing. "Why, are sharks scared of mermaids or something?"

She finds it hard to imagine anyone being scared of Luna, or anyone who looks like her, but what does Ginny know about the underwater life hierarchy?

Thankfully, Luna just shakes her head. "The opening is too small for them."

It sounds like such a mundane excuse that Ginny can't help but laugh.

Gods, but what her life has become — laughing over cave entrances being too small for sharks to pursue her through.

A thought hits her suddenly. "So… You have magic then?" she asks, hands starting to shake with hope. Could it be this easy?

(No. Of course not.)

Luna shakes her head again. "Not really? Obviously, I'm magic _al,_ but I can't really do any magic, no."

Ginny tries not to deflate. "Oh. What about the… kiss thing, then?" she asks, gesturing toward her cheek and willing herself very hard not to blush.

"Oh, that's easy!" Luna replies, perking up. "It's really more of an innate mermaid thing. It doesn't last for very long, but it's useful. You probably shouldn't have survived though. Mermaid magic isn't really meant to work on land-people."

Ginny frowns. "I thought you said it simply wasn't allowed?"

"It's not _not allowed,"_ Luna replies. "It just… doesn't usually work on land-people? Not unless they already have magic, anyway."

Ginny's stomach twists. "I don't have magic."

Now Luna truly does look surprised. "You don't? Really?" She swims closer, her eyes staring up at Ginny unblinkingly for an inhumanely long amount of time.

Ginny is about to nod when she remembers what she recently learned — how her parents wouldn't have been able to conceive her without magic.

She says so to Luna, who turns out to be a very good listener — nods and hums along, gasps at all the right parts.

"Could that be it?" she asks when she's done.

Luna hums again, shrugging. "Maybe? It's certainly something new. How exciting!"

It doesn't really seem that way to Ginny, but she guesses to a stranger, removed from the situation, learning that you were conceived through magic and that this may have allowed you to interact with another species' magic could be exciting.

She clears her throat. "Anyway… Is there a way out of here? Not that I don't, erm—" _like you,_ she was about to say, but Ginny mercifully chokes on the words and disguises it as a coughing fit.

"Thanks," she tells Luna when the mermaid hands her a shell filled with fresh water. "I only mean that I have somewhere to be."

"Like a quest?" Luna asks, and her wide eyes are filled with a yearning Ginny can't help but recognize.

It echoes with hers.

Maybe that's why she can't help but be honest. "It's kind of like a quest, yes," she says, taking a deep breath. "I'm looking for my father and brother. They took a ship out yesterday — or I guess maybe two days ago — in search of the sea witch's lair, and I have to find them. I told you, she wanted me, but they've gone to try to change her mind, and I —"

"You mean the palace?" Luna interrupts.

Ginny's words dry up in her mouth. "You know where it is?"

Luna nods cautiously. "Of course."

"Could you show me? Guide me there?" Ginny feels weak at the perspective of her goal, so nearby.

"Well, yes," Luna replies. "But I thought you wanted to find your family?"

Ginny shakes her head urgently. "No, don't you see? This is better — if I can deal with the sea-witch before they get there, we can just all go back home together, and they'd have been safe all along!"

She lets out a relieved laugh. "Thank you so much. This is… This means a lot."

Tentatively, Luna smiles back. "You're welcome. We can go now if you want?"

Ginny grins back. "Yes. Yes, I want."


	4. hey ho (a pirate's life for me)

Of course, going to the evil witch's lair — sorry, _palace_ — isn't quite as simple as saying it.

It's an underwater palace, for once, and Ginny actually cannot breathe underwater.

"Isn't your thing still working?" Ginny asks, pointing to her cheek when Luna turns wide, questioning eyes toward her.

"It shouldn't be? But I could, erm, reapply it if you wanted."

Ginny wants to rip out her own hair in frustration — they've wasted the past how many minutes trying to figure out to get Ginny to breathe underwater and Luna had the solution the whole time?

"Then why didn't you just say so?" she hisses.

Luna frowns, crossing her arms. "That wouldn't be very polite," she says. "Asking for permission is more proper, you know — I only didn't last time because you weren't able to speak."

"Oh." Ginny deflates, her anger dying down so quickly it almost leaves her dizzy. "Well," she clears her throat, "in that case, you have my permission."

It's a little awkward. Ginny has to bend down toward the water, while Luna hoists herself up to kiss her cheek again.

Her lips are wet, just a little, but they're very soft too, and warmer than Ginny had been expecting from someone who spent so much time in this cold water.

As though reading her mind, Luna retreats to the water, adding, "It should help with the cold, too. At least a little, anyway."

Ginny just nods. She looks down into the water, trying to spot her reflection — the glowing lip mark is back, and it doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

"Well, it seems like we can go then," she says.

For all her bravado, she's still anxious about slipping into the water, but Luna was right. It's not nearly as cold as she remembers, and even her wet clothes don't bother her like they should.

They're not _comfortable,_ but they're not dragging her down anymore.

It's an intriguing piece of magic, Ginny thinks, taking a deep breath and diving down.

It's a reflex to close her eyes, but after a few seconds, her curiosity grows too strong, and Ginny blinks them open.

The water doesn't sting, and Ginny lets out an involuntary gasp. She watches her air bubble up to the surface with fascination, but just like with her eyes, the water she can feel herself inhaling doesn't hurt.

She keeps waiting for it to hurt, to start burning — for her lungs to seize and the salt to burn her throat, but it doesn't feel like she's inhaling water at all, it feels like she's breathing in fresh air.

"Is it working?"

She turns around to see Luna watching her curiously. She looks… different underwater. Her skin takes on the same iridescent shine as her scales, and there are gills, slowly opening and closing, on each side of her neck.

Her hair floats behind her like a veil, and Ginny could lose hours tracking the differences between the Luna above water and the Luna below.

They don't have that kind of time, though.

"It is," she answers, somehow unsurprised to find that her voice travels clearly across the water.

Luna grins, revealing her sharp teeth. "Fantastic! Let's go then!"

She dives further down into the water, and Ginny follows, swimming past hundreds of shiny treasures scattered across the sand.

The cave is so much bigger than it had seemed above water, and a part of Ginny marvels at it as she follows Luna into a tunnel.

It's a much tighter fit. They can't swim side by side, and when she's not careful, Ginny's fingers and toes scrape against the rough rock that makes up the wall.

This must be the entrance the sharks couldn't cross, she realizes with a smile, and hurries after the shimmering end of Luna's tail she can see in front of her.

It would be easy to feel trapped there, but somehow, Ginny trusts her guide, and swims on.

Even so, she's glad when the tunnel starts to widen, and even gladder when it ends, leading them into the open ocean.

It's gorgeous. Much darker than in the cave — there are no glowing crystals to light her way here — but somehow her eyes adapt quickly to this darker spectrum. Much of the water before them is empty, with some small school of fish flitting by, and Ginny has to take a moment to simply _feel_ how huge the ocean is, and how momentous her circumstances are.

She takes another, deeper breath of impossibly clear air, and drags her eyes away from the awesome sight to look at Luna questioningly.

"Which way are we going?" she asks.

Luna smiles back, and jerks her head left. "Follow me."

And Ginny does.

* * *

Ginny has no way to tell how long they've been swimming for when they finally reach the place Luna reveals housed the witch's palace.

She thinks it has to have been hours at least, but with no sun to rhythm the day (or night), Ginny has no way to know for sure. She should be more tired too, if she had been swimming for so long, but for all that she has swum, her arms and legs barely ache.

She is, however, very jealous of how easily Luna's tail allows her to move underwater. Luna's every move is elegant, and she slips through the water so smoothly it barely seems to ripple around her. Meanwhile, Ginny, with her awkward and so very slow human swimming, feels like a five-year-old doggy paddling again in comparison.

"It doesn't seem like much," Ginny says, coming to a stop next to Luna. She sinks down to the ocean floor slowly, and digs her toes into the sand with a small delighted smile she isn't quite able to repress.

Luna remains silent for a long time, and Ginny's stomach twists uneasily. In their admittedly short acquaintance, Luna hadn't given her the impression of someone who got _quiet._

She had chattered the whole way here, enquiring about Ginny's family and offering back tidbits about what life underwater was like when Ginny asked. She'd swim up ahead in a burst of speed, kick up a cloud of sand Ginny would then have to swim through, and be waiting on the other side with pretty shining shells Ginny's hands itched to hold.

(Luna had tried to give them to her too, but Ginny had nowhere to put them, and so they eventually let them drop back to the floor — only to start it all over again later.)

"What's wrong?" she asks, dropping her voice to a whisper.

Luna shakes her head, her light hair floating behind her and following the move wildly. "I… She moved. It moved. The palace's not there." She gestures at the empty stretch of sand, her eyes wild with something that almost, but not quite, looks like anger. "It used to be there, and now it's not."

Ginny spins around so quickly she stumbles. "What do you mean, it _moved?_ Are you sure it's not just, hidden somehow? With magic?"

Magic can do that, Ginny knows — it hides what lies behind the borders of Harry's land. Why couldn't it conceal a palace too?

But Luna shakes her head. "No, no, it's not there. It's… The palace has a certain… aura, to it. Bad things happened there, and it…"

"Lingers," Ginny finishes, unable to repress a shiver.

Grimly, Luna nods.

The silence stretches between them, and Ginny starts to fidget, biting at her lips nervously until finally, she can't bear it anymore. "Do you think she left some kind of clue behind? A way to find the palace again?"

Luna's eyes clear up. "Ooh, yes!" she shouts, and Ginny's heart soars with hope.

"Well, I mean no," she continues, causing Ginny's blood to freeze in her veins, "she wouldn't leave a way to be tracked, that would defeat the point of moving…" She looks sideways at Ginny. "I guess if she wants you to come to her she needs it to be somewhere nobody could find you?"

"Great," Ginny replies dryly, pushing back the fear that inspires. "But you said she'd left some kind of clue behind?"

"Oh no." Luna shakes her head quickly. "We can find her, though. She'll be on the Map."

"The… Map?" Ginny repeats slowly, dubiously trying to echo the way Luna had clearly capitalized the word 'map'.

"Mmh-mmh."

"It's a magical map," Luna explains, grinning again, her eyes shining brightly. "If you ask it to lead you somewhere, it will. And it's never wrong!"

Ginny gapes. "That's… What? That's impossible!" she protests — and then she remembers. Right. Magic. "Is it impossible?"

"It is one of a kind," Luna replies. "But it really does work."

Sensing she's not going to like the answer, Ginny asks anyway, "Why didn't we use it before then?"

Luna's shoulders droop down. "I… don't actually own this map."

And there it is. The catch. Ginny had known she wasn't going to like this.

"Who does then?" Ginny asks, wildly hoping it's someone they can maybe bargain with, or perhaps steal from.

Like maybe a dragon. It'd be dangerous, and probably waste more time than they could afford, but Ginny _had_ always dreamed of meeting a real dragon one day, and besting it to its treasure.

Judging from the way Luna perks up, however, there will be no dragons.

"Oh, a friend!" She grins widely, like the very notion of a friend is something to be overjoyed about. "Well, _friends,_ really. They need it more than I do, really — usually merpeople don't need maps, and they don't really hold up all that well underwater anyway…"

She pouts, like the very thought of paper desegregating when wet is a crime, and Ginny's lips quirk up into a smile.

"You'll like them, too!" she continues, nodding to herself. "Come on!"

She doesn't wait for Ginny's acquiescence, just grabs her hand and pulls her along, swimming faster than Ginny could have on her own. If there is something guiding her, Ginny cannot tell what it is, and eventually, she just lets herself be dragged along.

It is, by some miraculous way, rather comfortable — and Luna's hand in hers feels very nice too.

* * *

Approaching a ship from underwater is different from approaching it from the sea. Rather than seeing whites sails cutting the blue of the sky, all Ginny can see at first is a shadow, dancing atop of her and steadily growing bigger as Luna pulls them up.

They break through the water some distance away from it, however, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Ginny breathes in actual air.

It feels… odd. It's like Luna's magic, thus far helping her breathe and swim and speak, has suddenly deserted her, and Ginny is only now realizing how light it had made her feel.

It's somehow the reverse feeling of taking off weights after exercising, where rather than suddenly feeling like she could fly off, Ginny feels like she could fall through the ground — or rather the ocean.

She has to kick up her legs constantly to stay afloat, and her arms are starting to burn with exhaustion as she uses them to push against the waves.

Because of all this, it takes her several minutes to finally look at the ship in front of them. It is huge, easily as big as the ship her father and brother departed on — and that was one of the biggest ships in their fleet — with spots of discolored wood on the sides like freshly healed scars.

Ginny has only ever seen scars like this once. When the _Erol_ had returned from what had been its last patrol of the oceans, having narrowly escaped pirates.

She doesn't need to look to the flag to know what she will see, but she does it anyway. Despair and panic claw at her insides as she takes in the black and white fabric, and she raises her voice to shout at Luna, to ask her what she was thinking.

But Luna's already swimming ahead, waving her arms wildly and flipping her tail until her scales sparkle in the sunlight. Ginny can't see her face, but she just knows Luna's grinning.

"Luna! Luna!" Ginny shouts, hurrying after her.

It is far harder to swim on the surface than it was below it, but Luna must have heard her because she circles back.

"What is it?" She eyes Ginny's trembling arms and her eyes go wide. Before Ginny has the time to react, she's hooked Ginny's right arm around her shoulders, pressing their bodies close and holding her up. "Sorry, I didn't realize the magic would leave so soon."

She sounds genuinely sorry, and Ginny's heart softens. "It's fine," she says. "But…" She licks her lips, looking at the ship with some apprehension. "Your friends are pirates?"

She feels it, this time, when Luna preens with pride. "Yes! They're very good at it, too." She shifts a little to look at Ginny. "Neville always says it's because of the Map, but I really think it's because of the stars. They like him, you know."

Ginny blinks. "Right… But, again, pirates?" And really, she can't be blamed if her voice goes a little high over the last word here — because _pirates!_

Once again, Luna's eyes go wide. "Oh!" she gasps. "No, no, don't worry!" She pats Ginny's shoulder. "They're not _bad_ pirates — I wouldn't dare go near them if they were. They're really nice, you'll see!"

"I —"

… _don't think there are nice pirates,_ she had been about to finish, but a wooden ladder clacks against the side of the ship, a cheerful voice shouting down at them, " _Hello, strangers! Climb up!",_ and Ginny realizes that while they'd been talking, Luna had still been swimming to bring them close to the ship.

"— will," she finishes instead, gritting her teeth and grabbing hold her the ladder.

And if Luna's wrong and they aren't, well, Ginny's great with a sword and Luna can get them away from here as soon as they touch down in the water.

She squares up her shoulders. Yeah, they'll be fine.

* * *

Somehow, the pirates are indeed very nice. The captain, Neville Longbottom, has a kind of roguish charm that Ginny can appreciate — from afar, because charm or not, he's still a pirate — and he greets her with a wide grin.

His crew is mismatched, but they seem equally as happy to see her, even if most of them are already engaged in a back-and-forth shouted conversation/catch-up with Luna, who elected to remain in the water.

"Usually Neville lets me have some kind of pool on the deck, but it takes a little more preparation time than we gave them," she had said, her lips tilting downward.

Facing the captain now, Ginny rather thinks that it wouldn't have bothered him having to rush to install it.

"You're a friend of Luna's then?" he says now, grinning mirthfully as Ginny's legs shake underneath her.

"Yeah." Ginny nods, tossing back wet hair behind her shoulders and taking another, steadier step.

"That's great." Neville's smile widens, causing dimples to appear. "She needs more friends — she's alone too much."

"She has you lot, though," Ginny points out.

Neville laughs. "That's fair. But it's different — we don't usually get into the water with her, though. How'd that happen?"

Despite herself, Ginny blushes. "There was a storm. My ship went down," she says, and the memory of that dreadful night, of those hours spent hopelessly trying not to drown, not to _die,_ make her shiver. "Luna rescued me, and I've been with her since."

If her talk of being shipwrecked sobers Neville up, her mentioning Luna has him smiling again.

"That's our Luna," he says proudly. "She's really good at that — she saved me once, you know. I was a dumb kid, went wandering too far and got pulled down under the water — next thing I knew, she was pulling me back to the shore."

Ginny smiles back. "That's nice. So, erm, how did you end up here?" she asks, half out of curiosity half to keep the conversation moving.

She doesn't expect the way Neville's face shutters close. "It's a long story," he replies, and then he changes the subject, striding forward to introduce him to his crew.

What follows is a whirlwind of faces and names, far too numerous for Ginny to remember, despite court having trained her well.

She thinks she could identify Hannah, Neville's stern but kind-looking first-mate (or maybe ship healer, it wasn't clear), and Colin, a gangly blond boy who practically exudes sunshine and is apparently older than he looks, because they were the first two she was introduced to, but everything happened too quickly after that for her to really follow.

There's a Justin — she knows — who eyed her suspiciously — she thinks — and a Dennis (Colin's brother?). A Susan too, and a Cho, who wields a sword by her side that Ginny yearns to get her hands on.

And so many, many others.

She's so busy keeping track of every new face, however, that she doesn't take notice of Justin doubling back to Neville from the side of the deck, where he'd been talking to Luna, to whisper in his captain's ears.

She does notice, however, when a brutish-looking man she hasn't yet been introduced to shoves a rag around her face, pulling her backward and causing her to fall down as she tries to kick away.

She screams, the sound muffled by the cloth, but someone pins her legs down to the deck and ties her hands around her back with a rough piece of rope.

Someone else pinches her nose and presses down on her mouth, and the last thing Ginny hears before the world goes dark is Neville's voice, apologizing.

* * *

She wakes up with a splitting headache, her shoulders aching from the way her hands are still tied behind her back.

She sits up slowly, wincing at the candlelight, and takes stock of her surroundings.

She's in the brig, that much is clear. She's alone, too, and locked in a cell that is only barely better than what she'd always imagined a pirate ship's brig might look like.

Ginny's about to start yelling when the door creaks and sunshine comes pouring in, followed by the heavy sound of footsteps.

Glaring already, Ginny readies herself.

It's Neville, because of course it is. He smiles when he sees her, and raises up a flask whose contents swish loudly.

"I thought you might be thirsty," he says. His smile eases into something slightly apologetic. "I'm glad to see you awake."

She is thirsty, but Ginny doesn't move to take the flask, glaring at him as she shrugs her shoulders pointedly.

"Oh, gods, right, I forgot." Ginny flinches when he pulls out a knife, but he rolls his eyes and gestures at her to come closer to the bars of her cell. "I won't hurt you, I swear, I just want to cut these loose."

"And I should trust you why, exactly?" Ginny retorts.

She does comply, however. The bars are widely spaced enough that if he tries anything else than what he says he will be doing, Ginny can disarm him and slide his weapon to her.

Probably.

It's worth trying, anyway.

"I'm really sorry, you know," he says as he carefully starts sawing at the rope. "I don't know if you heard me earlier, but I —"

"I heard you," Ginny interrupts. "And I don't care — just let me go." Her eyes narrow as the rope finally falls off, and she spins around to look Neville in the eyes. "If you were really sorry, you'd let me go," she says, and when Neville only looks away, she lets her lips stretch into a snarl.

"But you're not, are you? You're not really sorry at all. I bet this was just so convenient for you! Gods, I was such an idiot to ever trust— Was Luna in on this from the beginning? Give the princess to the pirates, why don't you?! I bet her stupid Map doesn't even exist!"

"I— It's not like that!" Neville stutters, his cheeks reddening as he lets his hands drop back to his side. "And Luna has nothing to do with this — she'd probably kill me for trying but… It's not like that, I swear. We won't harm you, we'll bring you back home, we just need —"

"The money," Ginny finishes for him. Disgusted, she takes a step back, and then another, and another, until her knees hit the cot she'd woken up on. She lets herself fall down, and laughs bitterly. "Of course. You're pirates, why would you ever care about anything but the money."

"It's not —"

"Like that, yeah, I heard you the first time." Ginny rolls her eyes, anger and betrayal burning in her stomach. "Save it for someone who cares," she spits out. "I have more important things to do — not that _you'd_ understand."

She huffs at him, and then pointedly starts humming, louder and louder, whenever he tries to speak, until finally his steps stomp back up the ladder. The trapdoor falls shut with a loud clang behind him, but Ginny welcomes the darkness and quiet.

She lets her shoulders fall, bringing her hands to her laps and rubbing her sore wrists as she lets out a trembling sigh and wills herself not to cry.

 _Think, Ginny,_ she tells herself, looking around the room for anything she can use. _There's got to be something worthwhile around here_ somewhere.

She's so busy examining every inch of her cell that she almost doesn't hear it. A scratching sound, followed by soft tapping, coming from the other side of the hull.

Ginny's heart soars.

"Luna?" she asks, pressing her face against the wood. "Is that you?"

"Ginny?!" Luna's voice comes out a little warped, muffled as it is by the wood, but it is clear and audible.

Ginny has to bite down on her fist to smother a relieved sob.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny, I never thought — they're usually so _nice!_ I don't know what came over them, really!" A pause. "Ginny? You're still here?"

"I'm here, I'm here." Despite the situation, Luna's affront at the thought of her friend acting like what he is makes her smile. "And I'm fine." She lets out a short burst of hysterical laughter.

"So… Nice pirates, huh?"

She doesn't need to see her to know that Luna's blushing, and it makes her smile.

"I'm really sorry," Luna repeats. "They're not usually so..."

"Piratey?" Ginny suggests with a wry grin, shifting to ease the pressure on her knees.

Luna's silence speaks for itself.

"I'll get this cleared up, I swear," Luna says. "I'll talk to Neville — no, Hannah, she's more reasonable (well, usually, anyway) and I'll get them to let you go."

Luna rambles on, and normally Ginny would be listening, or even replying, but her new position lets Ginny see under her cot.

Under her cot, where a rusted nail sticks out about halfway.

"You go do that," she tells Luna. "And if it doesn't work, I'll jump in the water somehow and you can get us away."

"They'll let you go," Luna replies, sounding so sure of herself Ginny has to bite back a fond eyeroll.

"But if they don't," Ginny counters, "you'll get me, right?"

Luna's sigh resonates loudly against the wall. " _Fine,"_ she drawls out, "but it won't happen."

Ginny hums back, wishing Luna luck absently when her friend tells her she's going to go talk to Neville again.

She's already concentrating on that nail, and how to best use it to pick the lock of her cell. It's not a skill she's had to use recently, but she doesn't think she's forgotten too much about it.

The twins had certainly made her practice often enough that she'd been able to pop locks open with her eyes closed once.

(Well, they hadn't really _made_ her do anything… Ginny had simply… _convinced_ them to help her learn what she'd thought of as a neat trick.)

The nail comes lose easily enough, and Ginny grips it tightly, her heart racing in her chest.

She can almost hear her brothers' voices as she slowly inserts the nail into the lock, carefully trying to jiggle the pins inside the mechanism.

("Always useful to get out of a tough spot," memory-George teases.

"Or a not so tough one." Memory-Fred winks.)

The lock pops open with a click, and Ginny remembers in extremis not to shout out her triumph. She does, however, jump for joy. Quietly.

She's halfway up the stairs to the trapdoor when it swings open again, and Ginny finds herself face to face with a very surprised Neville.

She's still considering her odds in trying to run past him and jumping overboard — pretty good, actually — when he sighs and runs a hand through his dirty-blond hair.

"Should have figured," he mutters, before sighing again. "Come on up, then."

Ginny eyes him suspiciously. "You're letting me go? Just like that?"

Neville's jaw tightens, but he winces. "Luna made a… compelling argument. And I think we should talk."

"Talk."

He nods, the muscles in his jaw jumping. "Yes, talk."

* * *

As it turns out, a pirate captain's cabin looks remarkably similar to a navy captain's cabin. There are a few differences — slightly more gold, mostly — but if she ignores that, and the company, Ginny could almost believe she was back on the _Burrow,_ training under Captain Moody.

To her surprise, however, Luna's there, her arms crossed over the side of a large metallic bathtub. She grins when she sees Ginny enter the door, and waves at her cheerfully.

"See?" she says. "I told you they'd let you go!"

"We still need the Map," Ginny points out in return, her lips nonetheless quirking up into a smile when Luna pouts.

"And Neville will lend it to us — right, Neville?"

"I — Luna, I told you, we need that map. It's the only way we have of —" he cuts himself off, looking sideway at Ginny. "It's the only way."

Luna flops back in the tub with a loud splash. "You can just tell her, you know," she says. "She'll help you, once she knows."

"I don't think —" Ginny starts, at the same times as Neville goes, "She's a princess, _why_ would she —"

They both break off to stare at each other.

(Inside her tub, Luna smiles smugly.)

Ginny crosses her arms. "Alright," she says. "You said you wanted to talk, so talk. Why did you take me captive?"

"I —" Neville's eyes drift to Luna before coming back to Ginny. He heaves a long sigh, and his shoulders drop.

It hits Ginny, suddenly, that Neville can't be much older than her. It had been harder to tell, before, with the sun and whirlwind of introduction first, and the anger later, but his skin is smooth. There are no stress lines that she can see, and his eyes, though shadowed, simply look _young._

It throws her back a little, and she suddenly feels wrong-footed.

"You were right," Neville continues, unaware of Ginny's inner turmoil. "We do need the money — but not for whatever you were thinking. It's… We need an army. There's something we have to do, and we can't do it alone, so we need an army, and for that, we need the money to _pay_ an army."

"Thus piracy," Ginny breathes as the picture starts to become a little clearer. She frowns. "What is it that you have to do?"

Neville licks his lips. "This is going to sound impossible, but… I come from a kingdom ruled by an evil king — no, not a king, he's not even that. An evil wizard. And almost twenty years ago, he completely shut down our frontiers, and nobody's been able to get in or out since."

Ginny's mouth falls open, but Neville keeps talking.

"And we don't know how, or why, but about a year after I was born and the wards were erected, something happened, and my grandmother managed to smuggle me out of there. I haven't seen her or any of my family since, and I haven't been able to cross the wards again, but I know that with the Map we can find some way in."

He deflates when he looks back at Ginny. "You don't believe —"

"You're talking about Hogwarts," she interrupts, heart in her throat. Her hands are shaking. This _is_ an impossible story, but too much of it is familiar. "The kingdom of the Potters."

This time, Neville is the one gaping. He comes around faster than Ginny had though, his eyes fever-bright as he steps toward her.

"Yes!" he half-shouts half-says. "Yes, you know of it?"

Ginny laughs. "Of course. I mean, I would even without —" she waves a hand in the air, not even sure how to explain that she was taught everything about the neighboring kingdoms to Catchpole, her parents' kingdom, from the youngest age "— but Harry's been with us since I was a child! The Potter heir," she adds when the name doesn't seem to register with Neville.

"The prince is alive? And here?"

"Well, not _here."_ Ginny can't help but joke. "But he's back home, at our castle. My parents raised him alongside my brothers and I — they're why I'm here. My parents, not Harry, I mean. I need to —"

"Rescue them from the sea witch, yes, Luna told me," Neville replies weakly. He still looks stunned, and Ginny almost feels bad for dropping so much information on him, except that he and his crew did knock her out a very short time ago.

Still, she has to add, "If you went there, I know they'd agree to help you. My parents have always wished they could have helped the Potters more, and Harry's my mother's favorite. I know he'll want to help you too, if you have a way to take back his kingdom."

"We need the Map for that," Neville answers, but he's hesitating.

"We'll bring it back," she swears. "Or Luna will, if… if something happens to me," she adds, because she can't deny that she doesn't know how her confrontation with the sea witch will go.

She hopes it will end well, but judging from how this whole adventure has gone so far, Ginny wouldn't be surprised if it didn't.

"I hope nothing does," Neville replies, oddly solemn. He drums his fingers against his mahogany desk, before suddenly reaching down and under it, pulling at a lever Ginny hadn't even noticed was there.

A small drawer opens with a _swoosh_ , and Ginny can tell that she has him even before he pulls out what must be the Map.

He sighs again, pulling it toward his chest before extending it toward her.

He pauses halfway through, looking back at Luna. "You'll bring it back even if she tries to keep it, won't you?" he asks her.

Ginny would feel offended, but they don't really know each other, and their situation isn't exactly optimal for breeding trust.

"Of course," Luna replies. "I promise."

Neville nods, and hands the Map to Ginny.

Her right hand shakes as she accepts it.

She isn't sure what to expect, really. She's seen many maps before, most of them nautical, and none of them were as small as to fit in her hand like this, nor were they folded this way.

The parchment is soft under her fingers, and Ginny takes care as she slowly unfolds it, even if something tells her that this Map is more resilient than it looks.

Whatever she was expecting, however, a blank square of parchment wasn't it.

She arches an eyebrow in confusion and looks up toward Neville. "Is that it?"

Neville huffs out a laugh. "Just think about where you want to go."

Ginny does, and she almost drops the map in surprise as ink starts to bleed onto the page. It's little at first — like a single drop fell from someone's quill — but then it spreads and thickens, charting a map of a ground Ginny has never seen.

"It's a map of the ocean floor," Luna pipes up, head twisted to the side so she can peer around Ginny and look at the map.

Ginny's heart skips a beat. "Will it lead us to the witch?"

But just as she says it, the Map shifts, zooming in on a rough outline of what can only be a palace, and Ginny knows that it will.


	5. falling

Even if, in the end, Neville and his crew turned out not to be so bad after all, Ginny is still glad to get off the ship.

She's worried, at first, about what it might mean for the Map that they were supposed to go back underwater, but Neville and Luna had both waved away her concerns, and Luna had demonstrated with her tup that, somehow, the Map not only functioned when submerged, but also didn't deteriorate in the water.

She climbs down the ladder quickly, and laughs when she hears Luna's gleeful scream as she drops back into the ocean — it's not the most elegant way to get a mermaid back into the water, but it fits this mermaid, somehow.

Once they're both down, Luna kisses her cheek again, and back down they go. Being able to breathe underwater still feels just as surreal as it did before, but with Luna by her side, Ginny finds herself relaxing into it quickly.

It's a little fun, even, and she feels sorry she has to be serious again and dig out the Map from the small pouch Neville had lent her when they reach the ocean's floor.

Luna swims over with a sharp beat of her tail, and peers over the map as it slowly inks in.

Her fingers over the small circle representing the palace, and then follow the map down until it reaches its very bottom. Two dots hover there, like smudges of ink, and Ginny realizes belatedly that's they represent them.

"Well, that's useful," she says.

Luna laughs. "Yes." Her fingers travel up again, and she hums, her brow furrowed. "I think we're meant to go that way," she says, looking up and nodding to the right. "That," she says, tapping her index over a stylized line, "is a coral reef that way."

The empty stretch of ocean looks exactly the same as the one to the left to Ginny, but Luna — mostly — hasn't steered her wrong so far, and she knows more about traveling underwater anyway.

"Looks good," Ginny says, offering her friend a smile and folding the Map again.

Luna's cheeks darken and she looks away. "Let's go then," she says, wiggling her fingers and extending out a hand. "It'll be faster this way," she mumbles, and her smile widens when Ginny slips her hand in hers.

Her heart skips a beat when Luna's fingers curl around hers, and then they're off.

* * *

Ginny's seen coral before — and not even the dead one she only ever found twice while sifting through the sand — but the coral reef is nothing like that. It's thriving with life, thousands of small colourful fish diving in and out of sight, anemones slowly undulating in the water like they're dancing to a song only they can hear.

It takes her breath away, and she doesn't even realize they've stopped until she hears Luna's soft, fond chuckle.

"What?" she asks, trying to scowl and failing, as a particularly brave fish comes to nip at her fingers. It tickles.

"Nothing," Luna replies, and Ginny has to look away from the emotions she can see in Luna's eyes.

She clears her throat. "Where to next, then?" she asks, hoping her disappointment at having to leave this behind doesn't show.

It probably does, but it's hard to care when more fish starts to come nip at her toes too, causing her to giggle and kick upward in a cloud of shimmering sand to get away.

"We need to swim along the reef for a little while," Luna replies, absently clearing away a few algae that were stuck between two pieces of coral. "There'll be a cliff soon, and we need to go down there."

Surprised, Ginny looks up — she can barely see any sunlight filtering down, and it's hard to picture that the water can get any deeper.

"It'll rise up again after that," Luna continues, smiling gently as though she'd read Ginny's mind.

"And then we'll be at the sea witch's palace?"

Luna shakes her head and corrects, "Almost. There's a field before that, but then we'll be there."

Ginny's heart starts to race in anticipation. "That sounds… close."

Luna nods. "It's not very far." She's not smiling, and Ginny realizes suddenly how out of place such a grim expression looks on her face.

She bumps their hips together, and smiles. "Hey, maybe when all this is over, I could visit you again? Show you the waters around my home."

She only notices because she's watching for it, but pain flashes through Luna's eyes before it's painted over with excitement. "Really? That'd be great!"

Ginny huffs out a laugh, choosing to ignore it and focus on the positive. "Really. You'll love it, I think — we don't have reefs like this one, of course, but there's this beach I go to that's hidden under our castle, and I've always found these lovely shells there…"

It's so easy to talk with Luna, to make plans for the future and distract from the too real possibility that she might not have one soon.

They swim slowly along the coral reef, and Ginny savors each instant. Part of her is starting to wish this could last forever — that she could just stay down here, exploring this strange world with a pretty mermaid by her side. She probably wouldn't ever run out of things to see, she thinks absently as Luna holds up an oyster shell, tickles its side and carefully digs out a perfect pearl out of it.

"For you," she says. "I know you humans like them."

Ginny accepts it carefully, tucking it in the pouch next to the Map. "We do," she replies, a little stunned, trying to will her heart to stop racing. "I'm, er, guessing you don't?"

Luna laughs. "Of course not! They're pretty enough to look at, I guess, but they're more of a bother than anything else."

Ginny stares, enchanted.

"What is it?" Luna asks, her head tilted to the side.

"I just…" Ginny clears her throat, suddenly unable to look away. "You're not like anyone I've ever met before."

This time, Luna's cheeks definitely flush. "You're not like anyone I've ever met either," she replies in a soft tone.

She stares back too, and Ginny's stomach fills with butterflies. They're not moving, but the water slowly brings them closer anyway.

Ginny's eyes fall to Luna's lips, and for an impossibly long moment, she thinks they're about to kiss.

But she blinks, and the moment is gone.

Ginny doesn't feel any loss over it, though. She feels light, buoyant even, and she grins as she accepts Luna's hand again, letting her pull her along.

There'll be other moments, she knows.

* * *

"This… Are you sure we need to go down there?" Ginny asks, peering down over the jagged edge of the cliff above which she and Luna have stopped.

The waters look so dark it's impossible to tell how far down it goes, and as they watch, a cold current rises up from the abyss, making Ginny's hair stand on ends.

"Yes," Luna replies, but she doesn't look quite at ease. "See?" she points at the darkened spot on the Map, which they'd taken out some moments ago. "We need to go through there if we want to reach the witch's palace."

Ginny sighs, looking down at the Map. "You're sure it's the only way?"

Luna nods. "Going around would be difficult — and if the Map says this is the path to take, we should take it."

"How does it even work, anyway?" Ginny mutters mulishly, putting the Map away.

"Magic," Luna replies, some of her usual merriment returning. "It reads your heart, and finds you the safest path to what it wants."

That's a dubious explanation at best, but Ginny accepts it anyway. As long as it works, she's fine with it.

"Well, in that case, I guess we better go down," she says.

As they swim down the abyss, Ginny keeps expecting the pressure to start affecting her. She'd dived before, under the castle — obviously never this far down — and the pressure had always felt worse than the lack of air to her.

But Here, thanks to Luna's kiss, she can barely feel it. She can even see despite the lack of light, though her vision worsens as they go down.

But not by much, she realizes with a note of wonder, turning to her companion.

Luna is _shining._ Not much, but enough that a slight glow lights up their surroundings as they swim.

It's her tail, Ginny sees — or rather, her scales. She'd thought she'd caught them shimmering before, when the sun had shone on them, but it's nothing compared to this.

"Wow," she can't help but whisper.

The glow deepens. "You like it?" Luna asks, her voice almost shy.

"I do." There aren't enough words for how much.

They keep swimming in silence, guided by Luna's light. This place, oddly, feels more solemn than the reef had.

Ginny catches herself thinking that this place almost feels dead, where the reef had been so incontestably alive — and just as she does, of course, she sees something.

A dim glow, in the distance — is it growing closer, or are they getting closer to it?

She tugs on Luna's hand, pointing to it. "What do you think it —"

Ginny never even sees it coming. One moment, nothing is there, the next, a huge shape comes barreling out from under them, only narrowly missing them.

Luna screams out her name and Ginny loses her grip on her hand as they have to avoid the beast coming back.

It's a shark, Ginny realizes with a sinking stomach. A huge one, bigger than any of the bodies she'd seen in the harbor or in illustrations. Its flanks are marred with jagged scars, and Ginny shivers even as she tries to kick her feet up to go away.

It seems to be snarling at her, a hellish green glow swimming around its beady eyes, and Ginny screams when it rushes toward her again.

She's so sure she's about to get eaten that it takes her a moment to realize that what closed around her wrist isn't a maw full of teeth but rather a familiar hand.

"Luna?" she asks breathlessly. "What happened?"

"Come on, hurry!" Luna replies, hurriedly tugging her away and into a system of tunnels similar to the one that had led them outside of Luna's home what feels like forever ago. "It won't stay stunned for long."

Ginny turns her head to spot the shark shaking its head, looking dazed.

Suddenly, she remembers, and her heart jumps in her chest. She slaps at Luna's arm, the gesture causing her to spring back. "You — You just jumped on it! What in the gods' names were you thinking?! What would you go and do that for?"

Her eyes sting with tears, but she blinks and they're carried away by the ocean.

"What else could I do?" Luna replies, nonplussed. "It was… It was one of the witch's creatures; it would have carried you away to her."

Ginny blinks. "Really? Wait — its eyes… That light. They shone green. Is that how you knew?"

Luna inclines her head. "Yes. She can bind creatures with her magic."

"Well, I guess at least it wouldn't have eaten me," Ginny replies, a weak and humourless laugh slipping past her lips as she tries to will her heart to stop racing.

"That's not always better," Luna whispers, almost too softly for Ginny to hear.

She swallows, and squeezes Luna's hand, offering her friend a smile. "Hey, you saved me, okay? I'm fine, you're fine, we're… away from that shark. No harm done, really."

For a moment, Luna doesn't reply, just keep pulling Ginny along.

These tunnels are bigger than the ones that led out of Luna's treasure trove, but even with the glow coming off of Luna's scales, they are much darker. There is something awe-inspiring about them however, about being so far down underwater, into a place so untouched by life, and it leaves Ginny reluctant to break the silence too.

It's so dark, in fact, that she almost doesn't notice when Luna leads her out of them. She feels it first, really — the currents are stronger, and colder, than they'd been inside the caves.

"Where are we?" she asks, her free hand falling down to her pouch, fingers already working to untie its knots.

But Luna shakes her head, her fingers coming to still Ginny's. "Look," she says, nodding into the distance.

Slowly, Ginny follow her gaze. Her fingers fall away from the knots. "Is that —?" she asks, heart in her throat.

"Yes," Luna replies. "It is."

And there, in the distance, barely discernible, stands what is undeniably a palace.

* * *

The ocean floor rises as they swim toward the palace — slightly at first, and then more and more noticeably. The water gets a little warmer, and they slow their pace.

Of course, first, they have to swim through what Luna had referred to as a weed field.

It is not, Ginny notes with some horror as she eyes rows after rows of seaweed taller than her castle back home is, anywhere near close to what she'd pictured.

"Well," she jokes as they approach it, "at least it can't be worse than the shark."

Luna snorts out a laugh, only humming in agreement. She's been oddly silent since the shark, come to think of it, and Ginny knocks their shoulders together with a grin.

"Come on," she says, pulling her along for once. "Race you to the other side?"

She doesn't wait for an answer, simply letting go of Luna's hand and swimming straight into the wall of seaweed.

It is, Ginny realizes approximately five seconds in, a bad idea. Also, worse than the shark. She only just barely manages to hold back a scream as cold, wet seaweed wraps around her naked forearms and everywhere else.

It feels like a thousand cold hands pulling at her, like the deads are rising and trying to drag her back down with them. Ginny rips them away from her, but for each one she manages to get out of, ten more takes its place, and the wet, slippery texture of it clings to her skin, right down to under her fingernails.

She just about sobs in relief when Luna pulls her out.

"This is going to be harder than it looks," she admits, bent over and trying to catch her breath.

"We need to go through the top," Luna replies, her smile the smallest it's ever been so far. She points up toward the surface, or rather the top part of the seaweed field. "We're too big to go through at the bottom, it'll be too thick to go through, but up there will be easier."

Ginny is about to ask why they don't simply try to swim _above_ the field entirely, when she realizes the other advantage going up brings them. "And we'll still be hidden if anyone looks for us," she breathes, impressed — and maybe a little bit turned on.

Luna's smile widens into something more real. "Yes," she replies. "Now, come on, you're losing the race already."

In two swift bend of her tail, she's already halfway up the tall seaweed field, leaving Ginny behind to sputter at the sand she's kicked up.

"Cheater!" she shouts out, but she's already moving — Luna may have the advantage here, but Ginny's never been one to surrender easily.

She loses, of course — though can it really be called losing when the sight that greets her at the top is so lovely?

Luna seems more like herself as they swift through the field — still not a pleasant task, but already leagues better than it had been before.

She's asking Ginny questions about herself again, about her family, and Ginny is only too happy to answer her. This segues into talk about Ginny's kingdom, and her future, and they both start making more plans to meet once Ginny's free from the witch's influence.

Most of them rehash things they'd already discussed, but it's a good distraction nonetheless. They're getting much closer to the witch's palace.

"Are you scared, Ginny?" Luna asks when they start being able to see the other end of the field, the palace rising menacingly out of the seafloor.

Ginny considers lying, making herself appear braver, but she squares up her shoulder and nods. "Terrified," she answers, proud of the way her voice doesn't shake.

"I'm sorry."

Ginny shrugs. "It's not your fault." She stops at the edge of the field, only a few short meters away from exiting this field. At this height, they're coming up actually above the palace, and Ginny can't tell if that's good or not. "Should we go down again?"

Luna shakes her head. "No. We'll do better from above, it's less guarded than the ground."

Of course the palace is guarded. Ginny doesn't know why she hadn't really thought of that before, not for _real_ — especially after they'd met what had to have been one of them already.

She shivers. "Alright," she says, and slowly follows Luna out.

The palace is a larger building than it had looked from afar. It looks strangely human-made too, with sculpted busts and columns, empty gardens and fountains that do not and cannot flow, and Ginny realizes belatedly that it must have been made on the surface and then pulled down underwater.

It's nested against a mountain-like structure, and Ginny notes with some surprise that they must be down at a much lower depth than she'd imagined, because she can see sunspots, dancing above their heads, sunshine filtering down through the water.

They're only just reaching the mountain, which Luna promises her should hold cave-like structures they can shelter in to look at the Map again, when Ginny spots them.

Two familiar figures, a spot of red hair above their heads, as they circle around the palace slowly.

She doesn't realize she's opened her mouth to shout their names, letting go of Luna's hand to swim to them, until Luna's hand slaps over her mouth, silencing her voice.

"They won't help you. Pandora — the sea witch has them enthralled," Luna whispers in her ears, pulling her into a nearby cave.

Ginny tries to shout and kick herself free — this is her family, her father and brother, the men she's come to rescue — but Luna's grip is too strong, and she cannot seem to break it until Luna herself lets her go, positioning herself between Ginny and the cave's entrance with an apologetic look.

"What?" Ginny asks angrily, crossing her arms and letting her feet drop down to the steady cave floor. "What do you mean, she had them _enthralled?"_ Her blood freezes. "Wait, you mean like that shark we saw?" she asks incredulously. "I thought it only worked on animals!"

Looking away, Luna shakes her head. "It works on people too," she says, the words raw in her mouth. "She did it to my father, too," she confesses. "A long time ago. She has this pendant — this necklace — that gives her magic, and lets her control minds. It's how she enslaves whoever she wants."

Ginny's heart goes out to her, all of her anger vanishing and turning into horror. "Gods, Luna, I'm so sorry," she says, swimming over to take Luna's hands in hers.

"It was a long time ago," Luna repeats.

"Well, we can save him too," Ginny replies, determination burning bright in her chest. She will save her father, and Bill, and Luna's father — in fact, she will save _everyone_ this witch has imprisoned like this.

If the necklace gives the witch her powers, it stands to reason that taking it off will remove them, and free her slaves.

When she says so to Luna, her friend's light eyes fill with awe and a wild kind of hope. "I believe you," she says, and sounds almost surprised by her own words.

"But how do we get to her?" Ginny asks, frowning. "You said the Map would help, right?"

Her fingers fall down to her pouch, but Luna shakes her head, biting her lower lip. "I know a way in," she says.

Ginny freezes. "Really?"

Lunda nods, smiling wistfully. "I used to try to sneak in this palace as a child — its location might change, but the architecture doesn't."

"And nobody ever found you?" Ginny asks, incredulous.

"I was very good at hiding," Luna replies. "It's been a while, but my way in should still be there, and it will be unguarded."

Ginny pauses for a moment, scrutinizing Luna's face. She doesn't know what she's looking for, nor if she finds it, but she feels as though she's about to step off a cliff — and not the type of cliff you can swim away from.

"Alright," she finally says, an odd sense of foreboding filling her chest. "Lead the way, then."

Luna's smile is awfully thin when Ginny takes her hand, almost like it was painted on, but Ginny doesn't pay it any mind — she doesn't really feel like smiling either.

She regrets it later, of course. Regrets it so much it congeals in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Because the path Luna leads her on is a trap.

They're barely stepped inside the castle when they're greeted by a tall figure, dressed in a shimmering dark fabric that floats around her, a stark contrast to the pallor of her skin and hair.

But more noticeable than everything are two things: the first, the silver locket hanging around her neck, shining a sickly green light.

The second, the way she smiles as she greets Luna, calling her "Daughter".

And even worse is the way Luna calls her "Mother" in return, just before the guards fall upon them, and drag Ginny away.

The last thing she cares to notice while they drag her away, kicking and screaming, is the way the sea witch pulls her daughter into a hug.

Pulls _Luna_ into a hug.


	6. love is the answer

Luna lets herself be pulled into her mother's embrace with a heavy, aching heart. It's so easy to follow, so easy to remember and fall for the familiarity of it, even if it all feels so very wrong.

It always has, ever since…

Ever since.

* * *

_One of Luna's earlier memories is of her mother's smile as Pandora grins down at her, a silver locket hanging from her neck._

_It's just out of reach from Luna's fingers, and she wriggles out of her sleeping father's hold to grab at it._

_It's cold under her fingers — so cold it burns, in fact, for the short instant Luna's hands wrap around it before her mother yanks it out of her grip._

" _Don't touch that!" she says, her once so warm eyes now as cold as the locket had been._

_Luna stares at her, uncomprehending, as her mother turns into a stranger that curls around her locket, whispering to it while Luna's hands still hurt._

_She doesn't remember it, but she starts crying, quiet tears at first that turn into sobs loud enough that they wake up her father._

_She falls into his embrace readily, sobbing into his shoulder, tail banging against his until he steadies her._

" _What happened, moonbeam?"_

" _Mum," Luna sobs. It's all she can get out._

_Her father's arms close around her as he gets up. "Pandora?" he asks, and Luna doesn't know why then, but he sounds worried._

_But Xenophilius's voice seems to break whatever spell had taken hold over his wife, and she collapses down to the floor of their home with a broken wail of apologies._

" _I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she repeats, sobbing, reaching brokenly for her family._

_Her sobs redouble when Xenophilius swims back, holding Luna out of reach. "What happened, Pandora?"_

" _She… She touched the locket — just for an instant," she hastens to add, "just for an instant. I took it away."_

" _It didn't like that, did it? Somebody else touching it?" Xenophilius replies. He sounds tired, and Luna twists into his hold, no longer crying as she peers out at her mother._

_And that's how she sees the wretched expression on her mother's face as she shakes her head. "No," she says, her voice almost a whisper. "I think it did."_

* * *

_Luna's mother is cursed. She doesn't remember learning it, but she knows it anyhow._

_An evil wizard had asked her for her help once, and when she'd refused, he'd flown into such a terrible rage and cursed her._

" _This," Pandora says, lifting the locket from her chest carefully, "is my curse. I can never take it off, and you should never touch it, alright, moonbeam?"_

_All of five, Luna nods. "Alright," she repeats. "But what does it do?"_

_Pandora sighs, her lips stretching into a pained smile._

" _That wizard, the one I told you about? He wanted me to help him — well the curse makes me help him. Sometimes… sometimes, this locket makes it so I do what he wants me to do. Even if I don't want to. It's very dangerous," she adds, letting it slip through her fingers, "so you shouldn't touch it, okay?"_

_Luna nods. Her mother's eyes shine with tears as she shakes her head. "I need you to promise me, alright? I need you to promise me you won't touch it."_

" _I promise," Luna says. She doesn't really understand then, but this matters to her mother — and because Luna loves her mother, it matters to her too._

"Thank you," _her mother breathes, pulling Luna into a tight hug._ "Thank you."

* * *

_It's a little like having two different mothers. One is real — she is kind and fair and lovely, and she and her father are so in love that Luna always wants to hide her face away._

_The other is cold and dark, and Luna is scared of her. She hasn't really hurt her, but Luna's seen her come back from far off places with blood still under her fingertips, and she had grinned down at it._

_Her father is also scared of her, Luna knows. He watches her from the corners of his eyes, even when her curse isn't acting up, but he never does anything about it._

_Luna asks him once, why he won't, and he just stares off into the distance, some incalculable sorrow in his eyes._

" _I love her," Xenophilius replies. He looks down at his bright-eyed daughter, and he wishes he could take her and leave Pandora behind — but the truth is, it's been almost two decades now, and he's gotten used to it. He smiles, bittersweet, instead. "She goes away, sometimes, but she always comes back._

" _She always comes back," he repeats. "I can let her be alone when she does."_

* * *

_Pandora doesn't accept her fate, of course. Luna's mother had been a witch even before that dark wizard had cursed her. That was why he'd approached her in the first place._

_It takes her years before she gathers what she needs to make an attempt at breaking her curse — at destroying the locket._

_It doesn't work._

_No, worse than that, it backfires entirely._

_Luna has to watch as her mother is consumed by a sickly green fire, screaming as it licks at her flesh in an unending cycle of burning and regrowth._

_When the fire dies down, Luna's mother is gone. The locket takes over completely._

_Her father tries to get her to come back, of course — "She always comes back," he says, and Luna cries as he leaves her — but the woman who had been Luna's mother just turns him into one of her puppets._

_The first one, actually._

_But the worst isn't any of this — the worst is that Pandora, however cursed she may be, still loves her daughter._

_She wants her happy — wants to be a family again._

_Her idea of happiness isn't anything Luna wants to be a part of, of course. It still takes her years to leave._

* * *

Luna blinks, and her mind recenters on the present.

"I'm so glad you're here, moonbeam," Pandora says, smiling down at her daughter. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Luna replies absently.

It's true, in a way — she had missed her mother. But then again, she has been missing her mother for far longer than she has been gone from this place.

And right now, she misses Ginny more. She'd seen the betrayal painted on the other girl's face, felt it scrape against her lungs, hollowing out her chest, and Luna wishes she could have managed to explain.

She should have said something before. When it had turned they… That she…

She should have said something.

"And you've brought me the girl —"

"Ginny," Luna interrupts, biting her lip and looking down. "Her name is Ginny."

Pandora waves a wand through the water. "Ginny, fine. You've brought her to me — not that I couldn't have found her myself, especially since she was in my domain already, but you've made our work much easier." Her smile, horribly, widens. " _Thank you."_

She does this, sometimes — refers to the ocean as her domain, and to herself by the multiple pronoun. It's a foul portent of the curse she's under, and it has never failed to make Luna's stomach twist.

"I… Can I see her? She's probably hungry — we haven't really had the chance to eat in a while."

She's sure Pandora is about to refuse, but instead she smiles again. "My little moonbeam," she coos, "so thoughtful. Of course you can go see her."

* * *

The path to the dungeons is empty. As a child, Luna had swum through them often, racing against imaginary friends, playing hide-and-seek in the cells and pretending that she couldn't see the sick green glow in her father's eyes when he came to fetch her.

It hasn't really changed, even if the place doesn't look as fun as it had when Luna had still thought her mother could come back to her.

That had been her greatest mistake with Ginny, she thinks. For one terrible, awful moment, she had let herself be blinded by hope, by Ginny's conviction that she could do anything she wanted to.

She had truly thought that Ginny would win — would snatch the locket from her mother's neck and free her, that Luna could have everything and everyone she had ever loved.

She should have known that was only a daydream.

And now she's ruined everything.

Her stomach sinks as she reaches Ginny's cell. It looks empty at first, and for a terrible instant, Luna's convinced she's too late already, that her mother lied — but no. Ginny's simply sitting in a far off corner.

She's picked the one corner of her cell that makes it impossible for a guard to see her when patrolling — at first, at least — and Luna's lips twist up into a fond smile helplessly.

She stops in front of the bars, setting down the food she'd gathered on the ground before slowly rising again. Her fingers itch to reach out through them and hold Ginny's hand again. Ginny had such soft hands; they fit so perfectly in Luna's own.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, trusting that her voice will carry into the cell.

Ginny's head springs up, and she pushes herself to her feet smoothly.

She had really taken to life underwater well, Luna notes proudly, even though her stomach churns — it's not really her place to feel proud anymore, is it? Not after what she's done.

She swallows, and swims as close as she dares.

"I'm sorry," she repeats.

Ginny's lips curl into a snarl. Her eyes are alight with a fire that makes Luna shiver. "Good for you," she spits out. "And like I told your friend Neville when _he_ locked me up, unless you're here to let me out, I don't care."

"I didn't want to help her — I didn't _mean_ to help her," Luna corrects, her tone pleading.

Something flashes through Ginny's eyes, some tension leaching from her shoulders. "What, were you enthralled too?"

Luna's so desperate to make this better that she almost lies, but she's heard enough lies to know that it wouldn't help, not in the end.

"No," she replies. "I wasn't… I'm not — she wouldn't." She shakes her heads, and Ginny scoffs.

"Please, you're not even sure of that."

She's not, not really, but this isn't the matter at hand. "She's my mother, _Ginny._ I have to help her. And maybe… maybe I can fix her. She said… She said this could fix her." She stares into Ginny's eyes pleadingly, but they remain cold as ice.

"Right," Ginny says, bitter. She pushes herself back toward the end of the cell. "I thought we were supposed to be doing that together. I thought we were —" she bites tongue and shakes her head. "Nevermind. I guess I was just fooling myself."

 _(You weren't,_ Luna wants to scream, but it's too late for that, isn't it?)

Ginny scoffs again. "So what, did you lie about everything then? Was there ever any chance of me being free? From your _mother?_ "

Luna shakes her head.

"No, it's true. She wasn't… wasn't always like this, you know," she says, pained. "I told you, she's cursed — it's that locket." And then the words spill out. She has said some of this to Ginny already, but now she tells her everything.

How Pandora had been, before, how she had been Luna's mother first, and mostly, for so long that Luna hadn't really thought much of the curse at first, not until her mother had tried breaking it and had instead set free something horrible.

"But she's still in there," she finishes, her vision oddly blurry. "She has to be — and like you said, if we take off the locket, she'll be fine again."

Ginny's face stays hard as a rock.

"And what does any of that has to do with me?" she asks. "What does she need me for? And if she does need me, why didn't she just enthrall me with the rest, like she did my father, like she did my brother!"

Luna's words fail her. "I don't know," she confesses. She feels terribly confused, and a little sick.

"So you're no help," Ginny retorts, crossing her arms. "Great; You won't let me out, you 'don't know' what's happening… That's just great!"

"I… I brought you food?"

They're oysters, a whole plate full. She couldn't find much else a human could eat, but even so, Luna realizes now that she had chosen them because they'd reminded her of that moment they'd shared, back by the coral reef.

Evidently, it reminds Ginny of it too, because for an instant, her face flashes with fury and anguish deeper than she's ever seen before.

It was a bad idea, Luna also realizes, but it's too late to take it back now.

She just leaves instead, retreating quickly and shamefully, her heart screaming at her to turn around and let Ginny go free, her mind shouting back her that there was no way that would ever end well.

(Back in her cell, Ginny waits for Luna to have truly left to pull the plate of oysters to her chest and start crying.)

* * *

Luna finds herself back with her mother in what must have been a throne room in another life. The throne itself had long since rotted away, but the raised stone floor it had sat upon had weathered the water better, and Pandora had been using it for her magic since.

Her potions have a very particular smell — like something dead and rotten — that makes Luna's stomach roil, but Ginny's words have been echoing in her head since she'd left her in her cell, and try as she might, she can't simply ignore it.

(Maybe she doesn't wait to.)

"What does He want with her?" Luna finds herself asking, heart pounding in her chest.

Pandora turns around. She's not surprised to see Luna here — she never is — but she does seem surprised by the question. The locket on her chest flashes once, and she winces, putting a hand over it like she's trying to ease it.

Once, Luna would have rushed to her side to help. She still wants to — oh, how she wants to — but now she stands her ground, and waits for Pandora to straighten up.

Her father helps her, because he's her favorite guard, and in some twisted way, Pandora seems to still love him. Luna ignores him, though — it's easier than to see that green glow in the eyes of yet another person she loves.

She half doesn't want to get an answer to her question — whatever it is, it can't be good — but she also can't keep not knowing.

She needs to know.

It's so easy to forget, when Luna's looking into the face of the mother she loves, that Pandora _isn't_ her mother.

It's so easy to forget, until Pandora says or does something to remind her.

Because Luna had been wrong.

What Pandora wants to do isn't bad — it's _worse._

She wants to rip Ginny's magic out of her — a seventh daughter of a king and queen, Luna had _known_ her magic shouldn't have made Ginny feel so at ease underwater, she had _known_ and never noticed.

"But that will kill her," she says, horrified. She wants to run away, to hide, but Pandora's still talking, her eyes fever-bright.

"It would free me," Pandora counters, a hungry, desperate light shining through her eyes. "Finally, we could be together again. You, your father and I. family. Wouldn't that be great? Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

Her father swims closer, eyes as dull and dead as always, and something in Luna's chest dies.

"Okay," she lies. It's all she can do.

(Except, wait, no, it isn't. There is one more thing she can do.)

* * *

The funny thing is, Ginny doesn't even _like_ oysters. The texture is weird and they're very chewy, and it mostly just tastes like the sea when you, like is currently her case, don't have anything to eat them with.

She's hungry enough not to care — Neville had fed them, of course, but that feels like forever ago, and Ginny's been chased by a shark, has had to swim through a field of seaweed _and_ been captured since then — and tired enough not to taste what she eats, though.

Even so, she almost refuses to eat on principle alone.

She has no way of knowing when Luna will return — _if_ she returns, Ginny is forced to admit, and she hates that the thought still makes her heart hurt — or if anyone else would think to bring her food.

Besides, the empty shells are sharp, and sturdy enough that they can make a good makeshift weapon, just in case, and they're a good shape to try to scrape at the stone around the bars that close her cell.

She doesn't know how long she has — before the witch comes, before whatever magic still lets her breathe underwater dissipates — so Ginny tries to work quickly.

It's the perfect distraction from her feelings too — or rather, it would be if her mind didn't keep wandering back to Luna's face, to her bright eyes, so wide and hopeful as she'd tried to explain her mother's fate.

Curse her for being so lovely that Ginny never saw this coming.

Nacre mixes with brittle mortar as she scrapes at the ground until her fingers ache, and then scrapes again. The water takes on a dull shine, too, and it coats her clothes like she's rolled around in dust and glitter.

The guards come in rotations. Ginny doesn't know how long there is between each one — she's never been good at keeping track of time, too likely to wander off in her own head or overfocus on something she loves, and that's even more true now that she doesn't have access to convenient sunlight to help track the course of a day.

She counts the rotations instead. There have been three since Ginny was first brought in here, Luna's visit notwithstanding, and she hasn't been brought any more food. No water, of course, but Ginny's never been thirsty so far, and she doesn't think it's about to start now.

At least not before Luna's spell on her breaks, she imagines.

Ginny hasn't seen her father again, but she has seen her brother.

She had called out his name, had shouted out "Bill, Bill! Let me out!" until it felt like her throat had been rubbed raw from it, but no amount of pleading had helped dissipate the dead, empty look on his face.

Nothing Ginny had done had managed to stir anything even vaguely resembling the brother Ginny loves most in him.

It's almost enough to make her glad she hasn't seen her father around too, except that as long as she doesn't see him, Ginny can't be sure he hasn't suffered a worse fate than Bill.

By her count, Ginny's about due for another guard rotation soon, and that's why she's trying to clear up the water around her. It's an effort to hide her activities that's becoming harder as it goes on, but Ginny takes it to mean she's finally getting somewhere.

She could swear she felt one of the bars move when she'd tried to shake them earlier, too.

Using the walls to guide her movements, Ginny moves back to the end of her cell, her shrinking pile of shells hidden behind her. Her heart races as she waits, unsure whether to hope or dread seeing a familiar face again, but to her surprise, the face that greets her isn't one of the guards'.

It's not the witch's either.

"Oh, it's you," she says. the words slip past her lips without her meaning them to, and her heart jumps in her chest even as she tries to disguise the longing with anger. "What do you want?"

Luna stares back at her, her eyes wild with panic. "You were right," she says in a whisper, hands moving quickly on the door.

It's over so quickly Ginny doesn't even realize what's happening until the gate clicks open and Luna tugs it open, her arms bulging at the weight of forged iron.

"I'm so sorry," she continues. "You were right, I didn't — I wasn't thinking…"

Ginny springs to her feet, the move so sudden she almost ends up hitting her head on the ceiling. "What?"

Luna blinks, as though suddenly realizing Ginny hasn't moved. "Why are you still in there? Come on, we need to hurry — you have to get out of here, she's going to _kill_ you."

Ginny's blood runs cold in her veins. "She's going to _what?"_

Luna's hand grabs her forearm and pulls her out. Her head darts to the sides quickly, her eyes wild with panic as she eyes the corridor for guards, and her grip on Ginny's arm is so tight it's almost painful as she starts pulling them down the path Ginny's guards had taken to drag her to her cell.

"She wants to take your magic — because of your birth, you're special, and she wants to use that for something."

"Stop." Ginny pulls her arm free, pushing herself away from Luna. "How do I know any of that is true? How can I even trust you?"

Luna's eyes soften, and she looks down in shame. "I know… I know I haven't really given you a reason to trust me this we've arrived here, but I don't want you to die, and I did get you out. Can't you at least trust that?" she asks, beseeching.

Ginny swallows, unable to answer. "Why?" she asks instead. "Why help me now, when before you wanted me to go along with your mother's plans?"

"I told you, she —"

"Wants to kill me, yes, I've heard." Ginny rolls her eyes, leaning on her frustration to hide her panic. "But she's your mother. You didn't want to go against her before, why do you want to now? And don't," she bites out, "say that it's because she wants to kill me."

Luna must be able to tell that Ginny means it, or perhaps she's simply too panicked to try that line again, because she nods.

"She told me she wanted to be a family again," she confesses quietly.

Her head shoots up, a horrified expression painted on her face, and she starts shaking her head. "Not like — she doesn't _mean_ it. She can't mean it. The locket's too strong — I've seen her come free from its pull before, and this isn't it. She thinks she can use it — use you, and the spell she wants to do — to free herself, but that's the locket talking again, _using_ her."

She looks at Ginny pleadingly. "We can't let that happen. I don't know what it wants, but the one who created this curse is _evil._ Nothing good would come from this. Now, please," she begs, swimming closer to Ginny and gently putting a hand on her forearm, "we need to go. Get you to the surface. You'll be safer there."

Her heart races from the revelation, but her mind runs cold. She nods.

"Okay. But first, we need to get my brother and father too. I can't leave them behind." She straightens her back and looks at Luna with her best "I'm a princess, do what I say" look.

She can tell that Luna wants to argue, but after a quick, nervous look behind them, she relents.

"Okay," she says, her lips downturned like she already knows it's a bad idea. "But we need to be quick about it."

It is a bad idea, of course. A terrible one, even, but Ginny can't leave her family behind. Gods know what the witch would do to them if she did, and even if she left them unharmed, Ginny wouldn't be able to take the wondering.

Sooner or later, she'd come back to free them. She knows herself that well, at least.

Slowly and quietly, Luna leads them through the maze of corridors quickly. They don't see anyone, and Ginny would rejoice over that, except that it feels too easy.

She's not the only one to think so, too — Luna's visibly worried, and getting more so the closer they get to the parts of the castle she'd said they'd be able to find Pandora's enthralled guards.

"We could still leave," Luna tells her right before they're about to cross into the first room Pandora keeps her slaves.

"I know," Ginny replies in a whisper. She's started wishing they could, but she pushes through the feeling with a racing heart, focusing on her family. "But _I_ can't. You..." She licks her lips. "You don't have to come with me, though."

Luna's lips quirk up into a small, humorless smile, but she nods. "I know," she echoes, and they turn down the last corridor.

Somehow, Ginny's not surprised to see Pandora there, waiting for them, looking very disappointed.

A quick snap of her fingers has Ginny and Luna separated, their arms bound painfully behind their backs in a way that makes struggling to get free hopeless.

Ginny tries anyway, and has to stop when the grips on her arms threaten to rip them out of their sockets.

"I don't understand," Luna says, staring up at Pandora, uncomprehending. "How did you find us?"

Pandora sends her a pitying look. "It's simple, really," she says, her voice so sweet it hurts. She reaches down to the ends of Luna's hair, casually brushing a strand away — and plucking something dark that she secrets away in her large draping robes.

"I was keeping an eye on you, of course. Can't be too careful with my darling daughter's safety." She smiles, and Luna shrinks down on herself.

"You spied on me?"

Pandora's eyes harden like diamonds. "And you freed my prisoner, even after I told you how important she was to me," she retorts, and then she looks away, snapping her fingers again.

Instantly, Ginny's guards start dragging her away — but not back toward the cells, where they'd come from. No, toward Pandora.

"Where are you taking me?!" Ginny tries to buckle against her captors, but another harsh tug on her arms has her going limp again. Someone shoves a wet rag in her mouth too, leaving her to fume silently as she's dragged away.

"What are you doing?!" Luna shouts out, her panic so awful to hear it makes Ginny's chest ache. "No, stop!"

Amazingly enough, Pandora does stop.

It is not a kindness.

"I'm going to do the ritual, of course," she says, like that's the only answer she could have given.

"But you said it wasn't ready," Luna says.

"It's _almost_ ready," Pandora corrects. "And, well, I was going to wait, but if my own daughter betrays me… I might as well do it now and remove the temptation."

She sighs, shaking her head. "I really expected better from you, moonbeam," Pandora says, swimming to her daughter. "I thought you wanted what _I_ wanted — for us to be a family again."

Luna glares back at her, her head held high. "You're not my _mother."_

(Gods, Ginny loves her.

She wishes she could have said it, even once.)

* * *

Pandora's ritual room isn't one of the room Luna's really familiar with. When her mother had moved them to this place — this palace — after the curse had taken over, Luna hadn't been in a state to really want to go visit her mother when she worked on her magic.

Later, of course, she had tried, but that room was the only place Luna had been forbidden from entering.

Pandora had had such a wrathful look on her face the one time she'd caught Luna trying that Luna had never tried again.

She regrets that now, as both she and Ginny are dragged along by Pandora's guards.

The room is barer than she'd pictured, but Luna's stomach roils at the sight of the large stone slab at the center of the room, somehow knowing that Pandora won't be needing much more than that after all.

The two guards holding Ginny shove her onto it ruthlessly and proceed to methodically bind her to the stone with ropes threaded out in seaweed.

"Stay there," Pandora says, and Luna only belatedly realizes she'd been speaking to her when she swans out of the room, leaving her behind with the ring of silent guards.

"Are you okay?" she asks, wishing more than anything that she could go over to Ginny and free her again.

Alas, the grip on her arms is too tight for her to even free herself, and she would have nothing to cut the ropes with even if she did manage to. Now, if she could get one of the guard's coral swords, maybe she'd have a chance, but the closest one is five guards away. Luna doesn't stand a chance.

Ginny hums out something Luna hopes means she's fine, and her body strains as she struggles against her bonds.

They're as tight as the grip the guards had on her though, and struggling is as hopeless now as it had been then — not that Ginny seems to care.

(Oh, how Luna loves her.)

Ginny only stops when Pandora returns, her arms laden with vials containing a liquid Luna recognizes as the potion she'd been making the last time Luna had seen her.

She swims to Ginny and lets the vials go. They float around her — seven little colored receptacles orbiting around her — and she starts downing them one by one.

The glow from the locket around her chest seems to grow brighter, like it can sense what's about to happen — and it probably can, Luna thinks, evil, cursed thing that it is — until it flashes once and then no more, just as Pandora discards the last vial.

She grins down at Ginny. "You can struggle, if you want," she says. "It won't change anything, though, and will really only make this more painful to you."

She shrugs and turns back around, a powerful flick her dark tail sending her to one of her guards — it's only when she draws his sword that Luna's own talk unfreezes, and she launches herself forward with a strength she didn't know she had.

"No!" she screams as Pandora stalks back toward Ginny, the locket shining again, a malevolent, eager green light that makes Luna sick.

The guards' fingernails leave bloody trails on her arms but Luna doesn't register them as she tackles Pandora out of the way, reaching down to grab the sword and pull it free from Pandora's grip.

The coral is sharp and unforgiving as it bites into her flesh, but Luna holds on, twisting around Pandora and buckling her body against hers.

Pandora is stronger, and she has her magic. She should be winning, but Luna has youth and desperation on her side.

(And perhaps, too, there is a part of the woman who'd been her mother, still fighting inside of Pandora's head, stopping her from hurting her daughter.)

With a triumphant shout, Luna wrestles the sword free from her mother's hands.

What happens next, however, she couldn't have foreseen even in her wildest dream — or rather, her worst nightmares.

Carried away by the sudden lack of resistance, Luna stumbles. She thrusts the sword forward like she would her arms to steady herself, and looks on, horrified, as the pointed end sinks in her mother's chest with a wet squelch.

She yanks it out with a silent scream, not even noticing the way all the guards, thus far rushing at her to protect Pandora, suddenly stop in their tracks.

Blood follows the blade out, a crimson trail that slowly rises and spreads in the water around them. The blade falls from Luna's shaking hands, landing on the floor with a loud noise.

She doesn't even realize she'd been moving backward until her back hits stone, forcing her to spin around, and find herself faced with Ginny's wide eyes.

"Oh, gods, wait, I'll get those." Luna's fingers still shake as she yanks out the rag from Ginny's mouth, and then bends down to untie the knots to her binds.

She could have used the sword to be faster about it, but Luna's never touching that blade again.

Finally, Ginny's binds fall away, and Ginny pushes herself away from the table.

"Thank —" she starts to say, but her voice dies as she spots Pandora, the wound in her chest still bleeding sluggishly as she just… floats there.

Everything happens so quickly after that.

The locket flashes green, the brightest Luna's ever seen it, and Pandora's body jerks.

The guards spring back into motion again, and Ginny screams — or maybe Luna does.

They start moving toward them, but their movements are jerky, unnatural in a way they'd never been before.

(There is no light left in Pandora's eyes, just the green glow of the curse, and a part of Luna starts mourning her mother all over again even as most of her exhales a guilty sigh of relief.)

Ginny reacts faster. She jumps down to the left. Luna's afraid she'll only hit the ground, but she rolls away — and when she comes back up, Luna can see what she'd meant to do.

Her discarded sword looks even deadlier in Ginny's hands, who clearly knows how to use it, but all she does is slash upward into the water.

She doesn't even graze Pandora.

Or rather, that's what Luna thinks at first.

Because Ginny may not have touched Pandora with her blade, but the sword caught on a familiar fine silver chain, and now, dangling from its jagged tip, rests a rapidly dimming locket.

Pandora's body lets out an unearthly scream, its fingers bent like claws as it dives toward it, but Ginny pulls it and herself far out of reach.

Pandora's body seizes once, and twice, before stilling completely.

"Don't touch it," Luna cautions when Ginny pulls the necklace toward her, and she's rewarded by Ginny shooting her a droll look.

"I wasn't going to." And indeed, she just lets the locket sink to the ground. "But I wanted to see if I could do this..."

Without further warning, she swings the sword down, driving it deep through the metal, bringing it to a screeching stop against the stone floor.

It breaks off in pieces, leaving only the hilt in Ginny's hands, but when she waves her feet above the mess to clear the water, the locket is clearly destroyed, a piece of coral still stuck inside of it.

"How did you know that'd work?" Luna asks, staring at Ginny in breathless awe.

Ginny grins back. "I didn't — but you said nobody could take the locket away from her… And that she wanted to extract my 'magic' somehow. When she went for that sword, I figured it might be special somehow." She shrugs, tossing the last bit she'd been holding away. "And I guess it was."

It's hard to say who moves first, Ginny or Luna herself, but they crash together anyway, spinning in a hug in the middle of the room.

"I thought she was going to kill you," Luna sobs against Ginny's hair, and Ginny's hold gets tighter.

"I thought she was going to kill _you,"_ Ginny counters, pushing her head away. "I can't believe you rushed at her like that… When I saw the sword I thought you were dead."

"I wasn't. I was — I'm fine. But Pandora… My mother…" Luna trails off, swallowing and looking down.

Ginny's hands fall down her back to grab her hands. "I'm so sorry. I wish… I wish you hadn't had to do that."

She doesn't say anything else, just pulls Luna into another hug, and Luna goes along gratefully.

They only separate when a voice interrupts, someone suddenly clearing their throat beside them.

"Ginny? Would you mind introducing me to your friend?"

Ginny practically jumps away, her cheeks suddenly burning red — and Luna would feel bereft, except that Ginny is still holding onto her hand. "Dad!" she shouts out, tackling him in a one-armed hug.

Ginny's father, a red-haired man with kind, laughing eyes, laughs. "What happened?" he asks.

Ginny steps back, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "You don't remember?"

Her father frowns, then shakes his head. "I… Some things. I was…" He looks around, his face falling as his eyes fall upon Pandora's still floating body, Luna's father now by her side, and sobbing.

"The witch, she's dead?"

"Yes," Ginny replies, squeezing Luna's hand in comfort. "She had you under a thrall, possibly to lure me here? — but she was possessed," she hastens to add after a quick look at Luna. "It wasn't her fault."

"It's true," Xenophilius adds grimly, swimming over to place a hand over Luna's shoulders and tug her to his side. "My wife… My wife wasn't anything like this. She was a kind person, and a fair one — not whatever her curse turned her into."

The room slowly fills with chatter after that — people, landbounds and mers alike, find themselves suddenly free again in an unfamiliar place.

And those are only the ones in this room. There are more rooms, Luna knows, and more even outside the palace — animals, too, that Pandora had bewitched to serve with no care for who they were or where they'd come from.

Helping them, Luna is starting to realize, could take a lifetime.

"Just think of it like being a queen," Ginny whispers in her ear, slipping her hand back in Luna's.

"But I don't know how to be a queen?" Luna whispers back, turning to face Ginny.

Ginny's lips are pulled into a smile, and her eyes sparkle as she says, "But I do. And I'll help you."

Just like before, it's impossible to say which of them moves first. Perhaps, even, they move together.

That isn't important, not really.

Here's what _is_ important:

Ginny's lips are soft and pliant under Luna's, and she could kiss her forever if the human girl didn't still need her mouth to breathe.

Ginny laughs as they part, her eyes dazed and happy. "Well, if all I need to stay underwater is for you to kiss me, I think we're good."

Just for that, Luna kisses her again. And Again.

And…

(Well, you get the picture.)


End file.
